


Coming Home

by Redmidnight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bi Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Cas' family sucks, Chef Dean Winchester, Closeted Dean Winchester, College | University Student Dean Winchester, Dean Smokes, Dean Winchester Has Internalized Homophobia, Dean is an Idiot, Dean is not good at feelings, Dean works at a bar, Drinking, F/M, Fighting Like An Old Married Couple, Friends With Benefits, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), High school senior Castiel, High school senior Sam Winchester, Homophobia, Human AU, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Inias is a dick, Internalised Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Jealous Dean, M/M, Poor Winchesters, Power Imbalance, Sam and Cas are best friends, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, implied prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24304675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redmidnight/pseuds/Redmidnight
Summary: Dean Winchester was coming home. After his first semester away at culinary school in Texas, it was time to return to Kansas to the comfort of his family. Or so he thought. It turns out Dad's still holding a grudge over Dean for leaving them and Sam's too busy chasing after Jess to take much notice of Dean. Leaving him with no one else to turn to but the unlikeliest of companions. Sam's best friend, Castiel Novak, and nerdy companion was never someone Dean took much notice of. He's awkward and weird and has no understanding of personal space, but with no other option Dean manages to find comfort in those blue eyes. Maybe Cas isn't as bad as Dean thought.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Inias (Supernatural), Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s), Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

It was eight hours journey either way, seven and a half if he put his foot down and treated stops for gas like an F1 pit stop. That was what it took to come home Dean had only been away for one semester- his first semester in Dallas attending culinary school- but he could feel it weighing heavy on him. There was something reflexive about driving down familiar streets after too much time spent away; a discomfort in the mindlessness of it. The road pulled him home, whilst Dean himself felt changed and new, almost like a trespasser now. What offended Dean most was the subtle changes he noticed from speed bumps to the changing weather. For three months, Lawrence was pristine in his mind, littered with expectation and memory, and yet here it was tainted with change. It was a terrifying reality to realise that the world can and will continue without you. Dean had left and here stood Lawrence, continuing without a care, as if he had never been there at all.  
Arriving home, Dean was met with a Labrador welcome from Sam. Sam was a year Dean’s junior at 17, and in his senior year, but that didn’t stop him crushing Dean with the full force of all 6 feet of him. “All right, c’mon. Get off before you crush me,” Dean muttered, patting Sam’s back a couple of times before he was released.  
“It’s been three months, don’t pretend you haven’t missed me too,” Dean rolled his eyes, as much as he missed the kid, he wasn’t going to let it show. There hadn’t been a day that passed where Dean wasn’t blowing up Sam’s phone up with message after message: a repetitive inquisition into how Sam was doing, if Dad had done anything, if they needed more money, if Sam had made a move with Jess yet. As in contact as they had been, this was different, being here and seeing Sam was all together different, he only wished that Dad had stayed in town long enough for Dean to see him too.  
“As if. If anything, I’ve been enjoying the quiet without you yapping at me all the time,” Dean teased, he couldn’t help if his damn face was left all soft though, what could he say? he was in a good mood.  
With his bag discarded on the floor for now, Dean threw himself down onto the couch, leaning back far enough that he was almost flat. This was exactly what he needed. They could order some cheap pizza, have a couple of beers, then settle down with some movie they’d both seen a hundred times. It was the perfect welcome home.  
“You just gonna stand there gaping or what?” Dean asked Sam, starting to flick through the channels.  
“I was gonna get changed actually-“  
“Hey, I know you missed me an’ all, but you don’t gotta dress up for me, Sammy. I been driving all day, all I want is a chill night,” he decided, gesturing for Sam to it down already.  
“Well, about that-“ Dean’s grin froze, slowly sliding off his face, “I’d totally love that too, it’s just that Cas, his folks are having some party- it’s a last minute thing, I swear- but he wants me go and you know what he’s like…” Dean listened to Sam babble, rolling his eyes where appropriate. Cas, Castiel, was Sam’s dorky little friend; the two had been attached for most of high school, and he was nice if not a little too dependent on Sam, but in all the years Dean had known Cas, he wasn’t sure if they’d even managed to get through a conversation without Cas stuttering his way into oblivion. Dean liked him well enough but the kid was a walking disaster, so of course Sam had crumbled the second Cas needed him. All the while, Sam babbled on, man he could talk, and wouldn’t stop until Dean gave in. He couldn’t say no, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to put up a stink about it. Sam would definitely owe him for this, so why not milk it for all that it’s worth?  
“Okay. Fine. It’s the first time you’ve seen me in forever, but if you wanna spend the night with a bunch of losers then that’s fine by me,” he gave out a drawn out sigh, somehow sinking further into the couch.  
“So you’ll come with me then?” Sam grinned  
“Whoa, you never said anything about me tagging along. What do you need me for, you’re going to hold Cas’ hand, you just told me,” Dean sat up, losing the last grasp of his hope for a peaceful night.  
“Yeah, but I need you to drive me and like you said, it’s you’re first night back, so we have to spend it together- just at the party instead of here,” Sam said, trying to reason.  
“I am not going to some loser high school party, no way, Sam,” he shook his head firmly.  
“It’s not a high school party,” Sam corrected, “it’s his parent’s party, (“even better,” Dean huffed) so there’ll be loads pf people there. Free booze, free food, and y’know, there’ll be like girls there too so I’m sure you’ll manage… please Dean, I want us to hang out tonight too, but I gotta go and I really want you to come with me.” Sam was doing his impersonation of a dog again; eyes wide, forehead scrunched, and lip practically quivering. Dean was a dick but he wasn’t heartless. With a drawn out sigh, he gave his reply and Sam’s face reverted to his grin in an instant.  
The process of dressing-up (if they could call it that?) took the better part of fifteen minutes, but the Winchester’s didn’t find themselves leaving the house for the better part of an hour after the decision was made, quickly becoming caught up in an argument about the mode of transportation:  
• Part One, in which Sam wants them to take a cab  
• Part Two, in which Dean refuses: they have a car. Why waste good money on hiring some other dude to drive them about  
• Part Three, in which Sam frowns upon drink driving  
• Part Four, in which Dean reminds Sam that the only reason he’s tagging along is so he can drink  
• Part Five, in which Sam is instilled with the job of driving them home, but not to the party, that honour remains with Dean

The drive to the Novak’s was without bump. Dean played music at a comfortable volume (though Sam would argue it was still too loud), he could chat mindlessly and still sing along when his turn came to listen. It was the perfect formula for a drive like this, the polar opposite to when Dean had hit the highways on his way up from Texas: his peddle stamped down to the floor and the beat of the music struck against the windows until they were pressed in a jumping motion outwards with every hit of the drums. But this drive was about as gentle as Dean got, it was downright pleasant, especially considering that the Novak’s live over on the nicer end of town. It was a small pretty conservative town, so there wasn’t much room for complete destitution, but that didn’t stop a divide from forming itself. There wasn’t so much a train track marking a stark difference between rich and poor, as a gradual fade into white picket fence territory and then entirely private properties, competing for top billing, although everyone knew that went to the Novak’s, up on their hill.  
With the engine stopped all of two seconds, Sam was fumbling with the seat belt and quickly bounding out of the car. They’d made their way through the maze of parking spaces and half-abandoned cars, and now Dean had to nearly sprint to catch Sam up, inhaling the cold. “What’s got you so worked up?” he was a little breathy, but by no means breathless, it wasn’t Dean fault that Sam was so freakishly tall that Dean’s long legs had to take two steps to match Sam’s stride.  
“Jess just text she’s here,” there it was. Dean stopped in his tracks, forcing Sam to do the same.  
“You feed me all that crap about Cas and wanting to hang out, and now you tell me Jess is here,” Dean blinked at him, hands akimbo in the perfect mother hen position.  
“It’s not like that. She’s friends with Cas too, course she’s here,” Sam shrugged, although he wasn’t quite meeting Dean’s eye.  
“Right. So it’s got nothing to do with you having a massive crush on her?” Dean huffed, giving off a resigned sound, “whatever, just try not to scare her off, you weirdo.” Dean had barely gotten through the utterance when Sam practically ran away from him, to hunt down Jess, wherever she was.  
Dean’s feet dragged over the pebbled ground, leaving a sole disturbed path in the direction of the house that only grew taller above Dean. With every lug the noises of the house grew louder, he half expected them to be headbanging to Beethoven, the house shaking with every riff on the cello. Instead it was some mix of generic pop from the radio, only slightly muffled by a sea of voices. A couple of people were outside ashing into crystal trays or sitting around the fire pit. It was already dark and the air felt bitter, so Dean wasn’t surprised to find that most of the people were inside.  
From his view, below the steps leading up the foundation, Dean had a good view of the front-facing windows. A beat struck each window with a flash of neon colour, in a moment the men were in pink tuxedos, then the women in golden flapper gear. The music breathed life into each separate scene, painting the windows with roaring colour. Sam was long gone, and Dean was transfixed on the world before him, as if travelling through the veil would shatter the idyllic chaos he’d constructed. Only for the cold, Dean climbed up and let himself in 

Dean entered the party an intruder, his old flannel and faded jeans dishabille against the glitz of the upper class invitees. He pushed through the stiff of the bodies, until he was out of the grandeur of the entrance and into the heat of it: Sweat and music and liquor. In the kitchen, their island had been transformed into a makeshift bar, with a line of glass bottles and accompanying red solo cups laid out for perusal. His eyes paused over one of the more eccentric looking bottles. The glass- hell it could be crystal for all Dean knew- was carved with sharp and delicate edges and filled with amber. It probably cost more than a couple hundred too, and here it was laid out for anyone to drink from. Dean poured a salaries worth into one of the cups, mixing it with some cola. Diluting a drink like this was probably some kind of treason that would have him hung up in the wine cellar for crimes against the prestige of expensive whiskey He could imagine Mr Novak, drinking this shit out of one of those crystal whiskey glasses, swirling the liquid around and supping at it like it was anything more than a fancy means to an end. Hell, it was out here for public enjoyment, maybe this was the wealthy alternative to setting out an off-brand soda for guests. They probably kept the real stuff chained up, letting it age that little more, probably never even getting a drink of it.  
With drink in tow, Dean made his way to the heart. The amber was strong, which was always a relief. Dean drank with the music. It was becoming more and more obvious that he was an imposter here. There was no way he could slip into brunch conversations and play at rich conservatism, so he drank. Drank until beat and noises swirled, spinning into a buzzing haze. Sam could be anywhere and Dean was alone in the heat, swallowing it in until he choked. The decorate walls pulled him in, family portraits and landscapes pointing his way back and forth. He drank until wall turned to the glass of French doors and the bitter air was opening his eyes and freezing his lungs. Dean looked up, huffing in the December air, to watch as his breath was captured and drifted away. He followed his actuality until it faded into the glimmer of night. That was one thing he would always miss about home: for all its skylines and illumination, nothing in the city was as nihilistically beautiful. It was like floating away into nothing. Dean needed a smoke. He didn’t like to make a habit of it, those things were fucking expensive, but sometimes he needed it. He fumbled with the lighter a little, but eventually got himself lit, whole body breathing in. The music was muffled now. Dean thought he might let go, even for just a second.  
“Dean?” a voice spoke, tearing Dean away. The body stepped into the light pouring out from the glass. His voice was deeper than Dean had remembered, done up in some dress shirt, and hair flattened in party fashion.  
“Cas. Hey,” Dean gave some grin in the relief brought from a familiar face in the crowd of strangers.  
“I- I didn’t know you were home,” he looked flushed, must be from the cold, “when did you get back?”  
“Today. Jus’ a couple hours ago really. Sam dragged me along here, so he could hang with you,” he noticed Cas was on his own, like Dean, “you even seen him tonight?”  
“Um Sam did tell me he was here about an hour ago, but no, I haven’t seen his yet-“  
“Funny that,” Dean huffed, “ditched me too, said that Jess was here, so who knows if we’ll see him again. Those two made it official yet?”  
“I suppose that depends on your definition of official. At this point it’s common knowledge that they’re together, but neither of them has changed their Facebook status, as is the etiquette: so not quite-“  
“How come you’re out here on your own?” Dean blurted. Castiel blinked at Dean, the remainder of his speech softly fading to a halt. “Sorry uh it’s just, y’know this is your house, you got one hell of a fucking party in there, and you’re out here alone,” Dean observed, flushing as he did. Saying it aloud was much worse than just thinking it.  
“You’re alone too,” Cas said simply.  
For all the years Dean had known Cas, he had never understood him once. Half of him wondered why Sam was so stuck on the guy: Sam was a little a lot nerdy, but he was an okay enough guy that he could definitely do better than Castiel-named-after-a-freakin’-angel Novak. Cas was quiet. You say hi to the guy and wait half an hour, while he thinks about it, to get a hello back. Still the friendship continued and Dean learnt to put up with the kid, quirks and all. It was weird. Cas’ voice was slow and careful, almost robotic, but still this was like seeing him for the first time. Tearing down those years of assumptions and the version of Cas Dean had constructed in his mind. This was a person, completely different to anything Dean could guess at from glimpses. Inside it was loud and cramped, with at least a hundred or so people in there, but out here between the cold and the stars it felt intimate. Dean had never been alone with Cas like this, sure they had their awkward silences while Sam was in the bathroom, but this was different. This close Cas was kind of intimidating, all stare and eyes.  
“That’s different. I’m out for a smoke,” Dean pointedly lifted the cigarette, half burnt out with only a few drags.  
“I didn’t know you smoked,”  
“I don’t,” Dean started, simply, but caught that look from Cas, all confused and staring at the cigarette, mouth even opening to say well you’re smoking now, “well I don’t make a habit of it, these things are too expensive for that, anyway, jus’ sometimes- and Sam don’t know about it, by the way, an’ I could really do without a lecture from him cause I know. So I’d appreciate if ya didn’t tell him.”  
“Of course, Dean. I understand,” came Cas’ voice. Dean snubbed out the cigarette and picked up his drink again.  
“You gonna answer my question now?”  
“… Oh, yes. Well, I’m not exactly the type for parties, as you know. It got a little… hot in there, so I came outside for some much needed air. A sanctuary from my own house, “ he explained.  
“I can imagine. It is pretty intense in there. Everyone’s super fancy and judgemental too, shoulda seen the looks I got. Sam’s okay, he’s smart so can fit in with all those people, y’know people respect him. But in there, that’s not me. I ain’t worth shit compared to those people,”  
Cas wasn’t anything to Dean, not really. He was a passing presence: Sam was off to college next year, and God knows Dean hadn’t made the effort to keep on touch with anyone like they all promised, chances were their BFF charade was months from fading away to nothing but the occasional Facebook like. Dean could talk and even be as honest without the consequences. He’d be gone in a couple of weeks again and this would be nothing. But there Cas was. He was listening so intently to every word, his eyes didn’t leave Dean for even a second, and he didn’t speak either, just let Dean’s words hang in the air.  
“How long do you reckon we can stay out here til we get frostbite or some shit,” Dean huffed a laugh, giving a joke to fill the silence.  
“I don’t imagine you could get frostbite in these conditions, Dean. It’s a little chilly, but I think we will be okay,” came Cas in all his seriousness, how Dean wanted to teach that straight line to take a joke for once, see the fun in all the fucked up shit around them.  
“So you don’t like parties, huh? Drink a little and you won’t tell the difference. Hell, Sam’s run off, you can find a girl for yourself in there too- might be hard finding someone under forty but I reckon we can pull it off,” Dean advised him, gesturing wildly, drink in hand.  
“Ah- Dean. I’m not exactly-“  
“What? c’mon you’re not bad looking, an’ with me as your wingman, reckon I can find ya someone more than willing,” Dean teased, watching Cas shrivel up into himself, cheeks flushed red, and hands stuck by his side. Dean never looked at Cas much, but Cas sure as hell liked looking at him, he was always wide eyes and staring like he expected something from Dean. Dean usually looked down, feeling heavy eyes on him, but now that he was loose, enjoying the rising heat in Cas’ cheeks and the way he squirmed at Dean’s words, he couldn’t help but enjoy the show.  
Cas wasn’t as skinny as Dean had thought he was either, actually pretty well built. He’d finally filled into his clothes, well at least from what he could see under than damn trenchcoated he was always wearing. That damn thing was still too big, always covering up everything and hiding any shape that Cas had. Dean wanted to get him inside, to make him take that damn thing off and for once see. His eyes, they weren’t bad either. The kind of pretty colour girls swooned for, they were a damn constellation.  
“Dean.” Cas gave a sigh. He moved a little closer, until he was stood so close that Dean could feel Cas breathing, “I’m not ‘into’ girls. I’m- I’m gay. And I really doubt my parents’ would appreciate me flaunting that fact at one of their prestigious parties.”  
Now it was Dean’s turn to fluster, stumbling over the air as he tried to find words. It wasn’t that he had any problem with people being gay, it was great, good for them- Dean had just never been face to face with it. Well, he’d never known someone who could be so open about it. Cas just said it like it was nothing, like he didn’t care what Dean or anyone else thought. He owned it. Dean had never seen that before. It wasn’t a secret or something to hide, it was just him.  
“Oh. Well uh that that’s fine. That’s totally cool. It’s great, super cool,” Deans stumbled one word over the next, cheeks on fire. That definitely wasn’t handled well and there was Cas looking all bemused now. He had gone ahead and handed Cas the upper hand, letting him watch Dean fumble and embarrass himself.  
“Thank you,” the bastard was even teasing him now, maybe Dean didn’t have to teach him about humour after all.  
“Sorry: I didn’t handle that well, did I?” Dean cringed.  
“No. But it’s okay, Dean, I know you’re ‘as straight as they come’,” Cas sighed.  
“No, it’s not that- not that I’m not- I mean I am straight, but uh- I’m just gonna stop speaking,” he resigned, Cas freakin’ smirking at him now. Dean just drank. “Do you wanna go inside? I could pour you a drink to make up or being an idiot?”  
“I’m not really a big drinker-“  
“C’mon just this once, I’ll go easy on you,” Dean smirked, taking a half step towards him, watching Cas breathe in sharply. He didn’t wait for an answer, but grabbed hold of Cas’ wrist and pulled him inside.  
The instant the door opened, the party resumed. It was the very same song Dean had left to, finally pressing play as he rejoined the world inside. The groups of adults stood around talking politics over wine had turned into a spilt liquor, yelling the lyrics to songs, and sexual energy. There wasn’t a person over twenty five, which destroyed the strict arrangement of the room into a rolling sea Dean had to fight to get through, yanking Cas along with him. They were just about through the maze, when Dean heard a yell high above the music, “Castiel!” Dean dropped Cas’ wrist, turning around to see the voice, walking with ease, like the crowd parted for him. Every part of voice was prim and proper: eyebrows carved into perfect arches, hair styled, clothes uncreased and probably costing more than a month’s rent for Dean, not to mention that he held a fucking wine glass, with raspberries floating in his goddamn rosé, whilst everyone else held plastic solo cups.  
“Inias?” Cas was actually grinning at him, all tooth and gum “I didn’t know you were here.”  
“I wouldn’t miss it, darling,” Inias purred, “but I’ve found you at the most excellent time: a group of us are arranging some games, somewhere private. It’s going to be awful fun.”  
“Well as awesome as a round of pass the parcel sounds, we were-“ Dean started.  
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Inias said, looking at Dean for the first time now, “I’m Inias, a family friend. And you are?”  
“Dean.”  
“Splendid,” he turned back to Cas, completely unbothered, “I’ll show you where we’re playing,” next thing Inias had ahold of Cas’ hand and was leading him the way through his own fucking house, leaving Dean to stand and watch the newly formed pair disappear. With or without Cas, Dean needed a drink, finding it easy to find his way back to the bar without the extra weight lagging behind him. Beer was his usual poison, but tonight the scotch felt more appropriate a drink, barely diluted by the splash of cola. He returned back to the raging hormones, hoping to find someone there Dean too could pair off with.  
Dean drank into oblivion, finding himself dancing with anyone that would have him. It was all heat and bodies to press against, their faces all becoming a single blur. As much as he tried to move, his mind was still on Cas and that Inias that had swept him away. Who was that guy anyway? Sam had definitely never mentioned him, so he couldn’t be from school, so what right did he have to take Cas away like that? What a dick. Really, Dean should be happy for the guy, Dean had wanted to get Cas some action and it seemed that action had found him. That had to be a good thing. Even if it didn’t feel good. Something about that guy was off, he just wasn’t right for Cas.  
With his dancing partner leaving him, to go throw up into the nearest plant pot, Dean needed another drink. It was his fourth round trip to and he could definitely feel it now. He was stumbling a little but it was like floating and he was soaring higher and higher, until there- his eyes landed on blue. Dean couldn’t help but grin.  
“Dean! I’m so glad that you’re here,” Cas started.  
“Hey! Let me get you that drink I promised ya,” Dean said, ignorant to that helpless look spreading over Cas; he got a cup, not waiting for a response, before starting to pour in a splash of gin.  
“Um yes okay…Thank you. I do think I need one,” Cas sighed.  
“Yeah? What’s up?” Dean frowned now, looking at Cas. His hair was dishevelled, rather than flattened down as it had been earlier. Even his back seemed a little slumped over, his whole disposition loosened.  
“Well we certainly weren’t playing pass the parcel,” Dean laughed, he couldn’t help it with this guy, “it started off okay: it wasn’t so much a game, as an excuse to drink, but Inias, he always takes it too far,”  
“Who is that guy anyway?”  
“He’s a family friend. We grew up together really, but- I have a lot of love for Inias, but he can act so entitled sometimes,” Dean handed Cas the drink, frowning as he watched Cas drink eagerly, “I’m sorry, Dean, I really don’t feel up for the party at all, anymore. I think I’m just going to go upstairs.”  
“Hey, if you’re upset you shouldn’t be alone,” Dean suggested, putting his hand on Cas’ shoulder.  
“I don’t want to stay down here.”  
“I could come with you then…”  
Cas looked at Dean for a long moment, eyes travelling over his face like reading between the lines. Finally he settled on Dean’s eyes, “okay.”  
Dean grabbed a bottle for them, then followed Cas upstairs. He hoped no one saw them and got the wrong impression, the two of them sneaking off to Cas’ room could definitely be twisted by the wrong eyes. Dean was tagging along for the sole purpose of comforting Cas, he couldn’t help being an upstanding gentleman in the face of distress.  
Going up the stairs, Dean had never so intimate in the Novak house before. It was tall, up on its hill, looming over: lords in the manor watching their villeins run around for their every need. It was quiet up here, like no one else had dared venture this far into the castle, it was just silence.  
Cas’ room was at the end of the hall, all the doors white, identical, Dean had no idea if the lady or the tiger was hiding inside, and he definitely didn’t know if he’d ever find his way out again, with the hallway stretching along with every footstep. Even so Cas moved with ease. This was his home, He’d had lazy Sundays in sweatpants, he was a child in this house: free, without strains. It was hard to believe that anyone could be completely comfortable in the house of prim and proper.  
The room was almost empty. It was large, free space everywhere. Against the far wall stood the double bed, carefully made with blue sheets, a desk, a wardrobe, bedside table, and a book case. The room was gridlocked, no room for personality and definitely no room for Cas. For all the wealth and fortune, when it came down to it there was nothing. Cas sat down on the edge of the bed and Dean joined him. For a couple minutes, they drank silently together, the heaviness of the night coming down on them.  
“C’mon,” Dean broke the spell, “talk to me.”  
Cas gave a sigh, but gave in, “juvenile as it sounds, we wound up playing ‘truth or dare’. It started off fine, mainly just daring each other to drink. Then it got ‘inappropriate’. Eventually one of Inias’ friends, he dared me to kiss- to kiss Inias. It was a set-up really, I should have seen it coming,” he said, voice coming out stale.  
“You and Inias?” Cas nodded, “well that’s good isn’t it?” it didn’t feel good on Dean’s lips and Cas didn’t look happy either.  
“We grew up together, Dean. He’s like a brother. But clearly that’s not how he sees it… It’s not that I don’t like him, I just don’t see him like that. But I must admit, Inias does come with his advantages: I think if my parents would ever accept me with anyone- any man- it would be Inias,”  
“You shouldn’t be with someone just because of that,”  
“It would be easy though. My parents, since I told them, it’s been hard. They hate me, Dean” Dean watched as Cas’ eyes became glass, “with Inias they could come as close to acceptance as is possible for them.”  
“I don’t know how anyone could hate you.” Cas frowned a little, different than before, more questioning now, like his lips were trying to read into Dean’s words, “seriously. You’re amazing Cas.”  
“Dean-“  
“You should be with someone you like. Someone that’s gonna treat you right,” he said sincerely, hand going to Cas’ leg, giving a squeeze.  
Dean didn’t know how it happened, they were so close now, and Dean was watched Cas’ lips waiting for an answer, but it didn’t seem to be coming even as Cas got closer and closer to him. There was this chill passing between them, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand alert, until the chill settled in his stomach, flipping it over until Dean felt he would be sick from anticipation. Everything was heavy, and Dean couldn’t help it, he was leaning into the pull of Cas. Until, there- Cas’ lips! It was shy, slow, a gentle brush against Dean’s lips, and they were in too far to pull back now, all Dean could do was close his eyes and let himself feel this.  
Dean couldn’t trust himself not to pull back at any second and run. Run and pretend this never happened, that he hadn’t given in to that felling. But there was Cas. They were both a little drunk and there wasn’t much coordination, never mind harmony or rhythm, but they moved together all the same, drawing more and more out of each other until bliss. Cas was touching Dean’s jaw and Dean let his hands feel at Cas’ hair, grabbing at the short ends.  
When the kiss parted, Dean thought he might laugh. Of all people, this was Cas. Out of everyone, he chose Cas. Kissing Cas was amongst the stupidest things Dean had ever done, but God! he wanted to do it again. They moved back onto the bed, Dean on top of Cas now. They were messy, licking into one another’s mouths, like any moment midnight could break the spell, all rush and passion and fear. Cas’ hands worked their way under Dean’s shirt, shocking him with the sudden cool, Dean gasped into the kiss and Cas was panting. In this moment, Dean wanted it all. His hips worked on their own, pressing down on Cas, and it was his turn to gasp now. Then Cas’ hands were on his ass and Dean felt faint, blood running. Lips on Cas’ neck, moaning into skin. His eyes widened, feeling Cas grow hard under him, it was like a shot wound, but Dean didn’t stop, he was desperate for this and he was so heavy but Cas was air. Dean’s hands found their way to Cas’ hips, grabbing at him, slowly venturing closer to him, until he could feel at Cas through the thick of his pants, palming at him. Cas’ moans spurred him on, but Dean needed more. Hands ventured up, fumbling to unbutton Cas’ pants, Dean didn’t know what would happen next but he knew that he needed it.  
“Dean-” Cas didn’t moan this time, his voice was sudden, pushing Dean’s hands away and the electricity between them stopped flowing. That one word and it was over. Dean stepped back from himself, eyes open now. This was Sam’s best friend. This was Cas. Of all people he couldn’t be doing this with Cas. He was just begging for word to get out that he’d been- Dean’s eyes went cold. He struggled his way off the bed.  
“Dean…I’m so-“ Dean must have been pretty wild looking for Cas to see it too.  
“No, don’t. Just- you can’t tell anyone about this.”  
“Oh. Okay,” even in the dim light, the poor bastard looked heartbroken.  
“No. You’re fine- you’re great, it’s just y’know, we’re both drunk, and I’m really- I’m really not-“  
“You’re not gay. It’s okay, Dean. I get it.”  
“Look I’m sorry,” and he did mean it, and he didn’t mean to hurt Cas, but he never would have done that if he was sober, that wasn’t who Dean really was.  
“It’s fine… but I think you should go,”  
“Uh yeah. Yeah, I’ll go,” Dean got himself stood up straight, rubbing the back of his head, “I’m sorry,” he muttered, before finally leaving Cas alone in the dark of the room.  
Dean had never looked so guilty in all his life. His hair as dishevelled and skin a deathly white as he stalked away from the bedroom and down the stairs again. Whatever happened upstairs, the party kept on going. The music had turned a little solemn with ballads and makeshift couples slow dancing. The night was drawing to a close and Dean just wanted to go home.  
His phone lit up with a couple old texts from Sam, asking where he was. Dean hated to pull the kid away from the fun, but he really couldn’t stay here. “I’m leaving in five minutes. If you want a lift be at the car”  
It didn’t take all that long for the reply to come through: “I’m going to stay a little longer, I’ll see you at home”  
“Have fun with Jess just remember to be safe ;)”  
Dean’s phone buzzed again a few minutes later, but Dean didn’t bother to read the reply, it was best to leave Sam to it. Technically speaking, he was way over the limit, but walking outside the cool of the air had a definite sobering effect. Anyway, it was the dead of the night in a one horse town, the roads would be empty, the only person he could fuck up was himself, so no love lost. The drive home wound up being a little bumpy, but he made it home in one piece and passed out on the couch, before he could help himself.


	2. Chapter 2

It was long past midday when Dean finally managed to peel his eyes open and face the bright of the room swirling around him. Every part of him ached with regret. Most immediately, the regret that he hadn’t closed the curtains last night, allowing the sun to come cascading in, burning up the room with its light. Without a blanket to curl under, Dean was forced to adjust to the blinding white, blinking until his vision cleared. There was no going back now: with the daylight, came a reel of memories from last night, projected up on the far wall for Dean to watch in horror.  
Dean shut his eyes, as if he could hide away from the past so easily. Not when there burned to his eyelids was Cas. Blue eyes through thick eyelashes. Skin on skin, exploring, touching for the first time. Cas kissing him until the world faded to dust- Dean could still taste him, that last trace of Cas on his lips. Then Cas pulling back, and Dean was so scared, he ran- he had to get out of there, away from what he had done. Fuck! He couldn’t tell if it was the hangover or the guilt, but Dean felt nauseous. How could he have been so reckless? Cas was going to tell, Dean could feel it- and why shouldn’t he? Dean had been a complete asshole to him. The poor guy was already down and there goes Dean landing the final blow.  
Sam probably already knew too. Cas would’ve called him first thing and told Sammy what big brother had been up to last night. God- how was he supposed to explain that? The last thing Dean needed was Sam thinking he had been secretly gay this whole time- because that really wasn’t what this was. Dean was into girls. He had no doubt about that, not to brag but, he’d been with enough of them to know. Dean was a lady’s man through and through. If anything, last night was a complete anomaly, probably- definitely the fault of drinking way too much. It never would have happened if not for that. If Dean had played it safe and stuck to a healthy amount of beer, there was no way he’d have gone anywhere near Cas. In fact, the whole thing went even deeper than that, it was Sam’s fault, really. Sam was the one who dragged Dean out only to ditch him the first chance he got. Dean had wanted a quiet night in, no fuss. The whole Cas thing was probably some subconscious revenge. He was angry at Sam so Cas was just his means of working that out. It made complete sense. This wasn’t Dean’s fault, it couldn’t logically be.  
Dean forced himself to get up from the couch, he couldn’t think straight like this. It wasn’t much, but his best bet was aspirin and coffee. Plenty of it. He made it in a rush and drank before letting the coffee cool, burning his tongue in the process, but it was worth it to get some feeling back. Between painful sips, Dean stared into the mirk, on the verge of losing himself in it.  
“What’s wrong Dean? You still high from last night?” Sam joked, giving a laugh as Dean jumped at the sudden voice, almost spilling the coffee over himself. He’d never even heard Sam come into the room.  
“What?” Dean grumbled, rubbing at his eyes.  
“You.” Sam huffed a laugh, “you look like a corpse.”  
“You ain’t so pretty yourself,” Dean claimed, looking up at Sam now, only to find him completely put together like last night never even happened, “whatever.”  
“Okay… so what happened to you last night anyway? “  
“Me? You’re the one that fucked off with your girl,” Dean reminded him.  
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry about that,” Sam said, but he didn’t look all that sorry, doing his best to swallow down a grin.  
“Oh yeah? C’mon spill: what happened with you two last night?” Dean gave in, as shitty as he was feeling, he could see the energy bouncing off Sam, the kid would probably explode if he didn’t get this out.  
“Dean it was awesome, seriously. We ended up going somewhere private, just the two of us-“  
“Did you fuck her?!” Dean blurted, eyes wide.  
“DEAN! Oh my God, no! Not everyone’s like you! Would you just let me talk?” Sam was bright red now, chest heaving a little, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh.  
“Alright, alright, sorry, I jus’ got excited for you is all,”  
“Anyway,” Sam huffed, “so like I was saying, we found somewhere private to hang out so we could just spend some time together, without everyone else and uh, y’know these past few months we’ve been flirting a bit and talking a lot, and I don’t know why, but last night was just different. We were talking, like really talking- deep stuff. It was really amazing, and I told her how I feel and uh she felt the same way,” Sam was really ginning now and Dean didn’t have it in him to make fun of the kid, “we did kiss, but that was it, really. I don’t wanna rush into anything with Jess, I really like her, Dean.”  
“Oh my god, you’re such a girl,” Dean teased, “but, I’m real happy for you kid. I know it’s early days, but we should have her over for dinner before I head back, I gotta grill her, make sure she’s good enough for you.”  
Sam rolled his eyes, but gave off a laugh, “yeah? Alright. So what happened to you last night? You wouldn’t be this fucked unless you had a good time?”  
“Me? No, no, it was uh it was boring really,” Dean spoke uncertainly.  
“Yeah right. Did you get lucky?”  
“No! Why? Did someone say something?” Dean spluttered on the words, almost turning blue as he incriminated himself.  
“Jesus, Dean, guilty much? Seriously what happened?”  
“It was nothing. Really. I don’t even remember, so yeah,” Dean decided, but Sam didn’t look so sure, raising his brow.  
“Okay… weirdo,” Sam said, rolling his eyes, “anyway I got this big project to work on, for Mrs Green, it’s not too bad though, me and Cas (Dean choked on his coffee) are doing it together, so should be fun really. I’ll uh leave you to sleep off that hangover,” Sam chuckled, shaking his head at Dean and going back to his room.  
Dean was fucked. There was no way he could hold it together under these conditions. Sam could already tell that something was wrong with him. Thank God they didn’t take it any further than making out. That wasn’t even too bad, it hardly different than being with a girl, it wasn’t like Dean had- well… He shook that thought away, swallowing down the rest of his coffee. Give it a little time, and Dean could get over it and pretend the whole thing never happened, it was just one stupid mistake, he could get through this. 

Dean kept himself quiet for a week. The leaves were falling now, littering the patched yellow grass with their crimson corpses. Dean raked them up into piles whilst Sam went out to see Jess or kept himself locked up working away. Summer was over now. The nights were longer and colder and he was alone. To make matters worse, his thoughts were still haunted by memories of Cas. Whatever Dean tried, there he would be, slipping in and out of dreams, just to drive Dean crazy. There was something seriously wrong with him. This had never happened to Dean before, but it was no wonder that he couldn’t get over it: his body was probably still in shock, his mind too for that matter. Dean was as far away from gay as a person could get. There must have been some serious fragmentation in the very foundations of the universe for something as bizarre as this to happen. Or maybe it was some high-up god playing a game with his life, forcing Dean to do something he would never ordinarily do. Dean wasn’t even attracted to Cas. Sure, Cas was attractive, between the hair and the body- which Dean had finally discovered was lean but toned in all the right places- and those fucking blue eyes, but that didn’t mean Dean was attracted to him. Dean could admit that Iron Man was attractive, but in no way did Dean want to fuck him. He was a man. Dean was not attracted to men, because Dean was straight, not a doubt about it. 

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Dean asked one morning over eggs and bacon.  
“Well we’re about done with the project really, just need to put all the information together and figure out how to present it,” Dean couldn’t help but smile, he didn’t know where he got it from, but the kid worked hard, “so Cas’s coming over a little later so we can sort it all.”  
Dean went pale, a chill spreading through him like a shot-wound, “Cas?”  
“Yeah, we’ll stay out of your way, although it’s gonna take a while so he’s staying for dinner, but just consider it a practise run for when Jess comes, huh?” Sam suggested, to draw a smile out of Dean.  
“He’s staying for dinner,” fuck, “uh yeah, yeah that’s totally fine… why don’t we just order takeout, then you can uh eat in your room, don’t want me cramping your dorky style, do ya?”  
“Dean, you’re the one that’s always going on about saving money, it’s fine. We don’t need anything fancy, make anything you want. Seriously it’s fine,”  
Dean fell silent, busying himself with pushing his bacon around the plate. He had no idea how he was going to face Cas, never mind play at normality for Sam’s sake. He may as well come out with it and confess, to save himself the effort.  
Stomach knotted tight, Dean never did finish his breakfast, he didn’t have much of an appetite anyways. He took his time getting dressed, desperate to fill the time, rather than sit and wait for his doom. It had been a week, maybe Cas was over it anyway? Quiet, thinking Cas. Sure, he was definitely the type who didn’t dwell too long on things, the type that wasn’t sensitive , or easy to upset, the guy that Dean had been supposed to ‘comfort’ rather than – However Dean painted it, there was only one way this would turn out. Dean had to fix this, it was the only way through. Fix it and simultaneously pretend nothing happened, sounds easy enough.  
Dean was fucked,

The afternoon was still young when the knock came at the door, Dean was still tempted to run and hide, but Sam was up in his room and Dean needed to get to Cas first. He had to pry himself off the couch, body mechanical , his programming fighting against the hand reaching for the door handle. There was no smirking or cocky charm this time: Dean was all fear, eyes sunk in and brow scrunched up in anxiety. The door opened and there was Cas, soft and grey in a cardigan and hair pointing in every which direction, not to mention the dry of his lips, half chewed to scraps. Cas looked a mess: he didn’t want to be here as much as Dean didn’t want him here.  
“Dean.” Cas was doing his best to look in any direction but at Dean.  
“Hey,” Dean was trying as he could to keep his voice soft, “…we should talk.”  
“I really don’t have anything to say,” Cas shook his head, voice half broken.  
“Well I do. Please,”  
“Dean, it’s fine. You don’t need to do this, just forget it ever happened,” Cas’ words bled through the air . Painful and quiet.  
“Well that’s the thing, I can’t forget it,”  
Cas looked at Dean. Like there a thousand things unsaid, dying to come to the surface. Dean stared back. Wounds were open and weeping, dying, desperate, ready to be –  
“Cas!” Sam bounded down the stairs, pushing past Dean to see Cas. He was all grins and energy, “c’mon let’s go up to my room, I can’t wait to see what you’ve done.”  
Cas’ eyes slowly left Dean’s, silently following behind Sam to disappear up the stairs.  
The weight of it fell down on Dean’s chest, almost making him collapse to the ground. Sam always had impeccable timing, but this- God! There was that pulling in him begging him, needing him to follow Cas up there and have it out with him. But Dean couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to Sam, to think of what this would do to him. Dean was being selfish. He had to keep it in, ignore those feelings and for once be friggin’ normal.  
It was hard with his mind abuzz, but Dean needed to pick himself up and get started on dinner. Maybe that was just what he needed, a good distraction, and food had always worked in the past. That was the magic of it, even in the most hopeless of times, it could bring them together, they would still sit down as a family and eat. Drunk, bloody, or broke: they still could be a family, just like everyone else for that one meal.  
With the tapping of the blade on wood, Dean could turn himself off. Blank and unfeeling, his hands worked without instruction, knowing just what to do, adding the peppers to the pan and stirring. Dean was long gone, retreating away inside himself as muscle memory kicked in, leading him through.  
The preparations barely took half an hour, then it was an hours cook time in the oven, leaving Dean to wait. From downstairs, he could hear Sam’s voice muffled through the walls and then once in a while would be Cas, deep and careful. Dean strained himself to catch these glimpses. If Cas did agree to talk to him, what would Dean even say? Cas already knew that he was sorry, that Dean definitely wasn’t gay, and that it was a mistake- a stupid, drunken mistake that Dean would give anything to take back. So what else was there to say? One thing was certain, Dean needed to get his head straight. In the week since the party, Dean couldn’t manage to let it go. His eyes closed and he could feel ghost touches of Cas against him, hands in his hair, warm body pressed to his, lips drawing him in, the blue. Dean’s body ached. A throbbing in his chest, jumping just knowing that Cas was here. The memories played over and over, but they were unfinished. Cas had pulled back and Dean had run. Maybe that was it? He had no closure. It had been a mistake, but one that was incomplete. Whatever was pulling Dean to Cas could be done with, if Dean got it out of his system. Dean would end this. End it and then he could go back to normal, like this whole thing never happened. That was all he needed.  
With a plan in place the time passed with ease, and there went Dean’s timer to signal that the lasagne was ready. Dean took it out of the oven, giving a sigh as he breathed in the garlic and melted cheese. He let it settle for a short while, whilst Dean prepared some bread for them and got out the plates. Once Dean decided it would be firm enough, he cut into the lasagne, small amounts of sauce oozing out, just a small temptation of what was inside. In perfect squares, he plated the lasagne, and cleaned around the edges- being away from school didn’t mean he could let his presentation slip- once Dean decided it was ready, he called up for Sam and set the plates down on the table.  
Dean sat waiting, beer in hand, sipping nervously. Sam came bounding through first, with Cas timidly behind him. “It smells amazing Dean!” Sam complemented.  
“Would you expect anything else?” Dean teased, making Sam roll his eyes. He tried to catch glimpses of Cas from behind Sam, but couldn’t quite catch his eye.  
The table was small. A square with only three seats. As long as they’d lived here, there had only been three of them, they hadn’t been a complete nuclear family since Dean had been four. Those days were long over. Dean sat at what he imaged to be the head of the table, although they all could have equal claim to that, Sam sat next to him , leaving Cas no choice but to sit across from Dean. It would be near impossible for him to avoid Dean’s eyes from there.  
“So how’s the project looking?” Dean asked, as they ate.  
“Good. I think we’ve got a good handle on it,” Sam shrugged.  
“What’s it on again? Potatoes?”  
“Osmosis,” Sam corrected, rolling his eyes, “but potatoes are very minorly involved.”  
“Awesome, and hey if you guys need a guinea pig to practise your presentation on, I’m always up for it,”  
“Dean, you can’t eat the potatoes,”  
“…I know. I’m just trying to help is all,”  
“Thanks, but I really think we got it covered,” Sam assured him.  
“You think so too, Cas?” Dean asked, turning his attention across from him.  
“I don’t think we need your help,” Cas’ voice was cold and he was staring down at his plate to avoid Dean’s gaze.  
“Alright, I can see when I’m not wanted,” Dean joked, holding up his hands in defeat.  
With Sam busy eating and Cas cold to any direct address, Dean was left to fill the silences in between bites, entailing his journey from Texas or a wrestling match he’d seen, whatever it took. They were halfway through when Sam decided he needed a refill, after asking Cas if he needed anything, he was up and disappeared into the kitchen. Dean didn’t hesitate before lowering his voice to a just-audible whisper, leaning across the table towards Cas.  
“Cas, we need to talk,” Dean pleaded , willing Cas to look at him.  
“Dean, I really don’t have anything to say,” Cas hissed back.  
“Well I do-“  
“I’m not going to tell anyone. You have nothing to worry about,”  
“Please, let me make it up to you. I was a total dick and all I want is a chance to fix that,”  
“There’s nothing you can-“ Cas cut himself off as Sam came back with some drinks for the,, “thank you, Sam.”  
Sam gave him a smile, before sitting himself back down. There was a new tension in the room, Sam had to be able to feel it. Cas was tight-backed and barely eating anymore. When he accidentally found Dean in his vision, his eyes turned dark and Dean couldn’t blame him for that, but all he needed was one chance. Knowing Cas was torn up like this, how could Dean ignore that. All he could do was fix it, whether Cas was willing or not.  
Awkward silence overtook the rest of the meal. So much for a practise for when Jess was coming over. Dean could only hope that would be more successful than this was. He cleared away the plates, leaving them in the sink for later and followed Sam and Cas over to the couch.  
“Uh Dean,” Sam started, “Cas is gonna head home now, do you mind giving him a lift?”  
“Yeah, course that’s fine,” Dean shrugged, giving Cas a grin, who just glared.  
“Oh there’s no need, really,” Cas tried.  
“Sure there is, and it’s no bother really,”  
“My father can just pick me up, it’s okay,”  
“There’s no point dragging him out here. I got a couple thigs I need to get anyway, so it just makes sense for me to drop you home,” Dean insisted. He could see Cas trying to think up another excuse to get out of it, until finally he gave in.  
“…Fine. I’ll go get my things,” he sighed, getting up from the couch and disappearing upstairs.  
Sam just stared into the space where Cas had been, “are you two okay?” he asked in confusion.  
“Yep.” Dean shrugged, grabbing his jacket and keys.

Contempt choked the air in the car as Dean drove. Without the radio on, the silence was screaming, but Dean let Cas have it, for now at least. He drove them just over half way, before pulling into the lay by.  
“Wha- What are you doing?” Cas frowned.  
“Oh, it speaks,” Dean teased, maybe he should know better than to poke a lion but he didn’t.  
“This isn’t funny, Dean,”  
“I never said it was.” Cas huffed, turning away from Dean to look out the window.  
“No way, we’re not playing the silence game again. Sam obviously knew something was up, so we gotta sort this,”  
“I’m keeping your secret. I don’t owe you anything, Dean. I’m allowed to be upset,” Cas insisted.  
“And I’m allowed to be sorry. Talk to me and I’ll fix this,”  
“You came on to me Dean. You came up to my room, you flirted, you kissed me, and you’re the one that wanted more,” there it was spelled out for him, “then you ran away. Tell me, what’s so wrong with what we did that you had to leave me like that?”  
Dean blinked at him. Cas was out and he owned it. How could Dean tell him that he was repulsed by what they did? He was terrified that he did that willingly, and that he wanted it again.  
“There’s nothing wrong with it-“ Dean started.  
“Well you clearly seem to think there is,” Cas huffed.  
“It’s not like that- look, it might be easy for you, but this- this isn’t easy for me,”  
“You think it’s easy for me?” Cas looked at him in disbelief, head shaking in frustration, “nothing about this is easy. My entire family has turned their back on me. The only reason I haven’t’ been kicked out is so my parents can maintain their public image. That’s all they care about, not me, or anything else.”  
Dean went quiet. Cas’ chest was heaving and his eyes were glossy. They had money, which meant they were safe. There was no living pay check to pay check, worrying about food and bills. With all that, the Novaks should be happy, by right. Their life was the cover photo of the American dream, everything they were taught to aim for.  
“Then why do it? You had to know they wouldn’t be happy?” with all that security, Dean couldn’t understand how anyone could throw it away. Nothing could be worth the risk.  
“I have no intention of living a lie. I can’t change who I am and I don’t want to. If they can’t accept that, then- then I build a life for myself with people who will accept me.”  
Cas was just about holding himself together, Dean didn’t miss the way his voice quivered or the glassy look of his eyes. Cas was on the verge, and yet he didn’t fall over the edge. He kept his head held high, looking out. More than ever, Dean was bewildered by Cas. Dean could never put himself first like that, knowing how grave the consequences would be. That kind of strength was – Dean was in awe.  
“Dean?” Cas said, breaking the silence, as Dean had stared at him in bewilderment.  
“Sorry, I just- I don’t get it. Y’know, there are things that I’ve wanted but there’s so many reasons why I shouldn’t have it,” Dean’s voice was hushed, slowing the time time down to ebb and flow.  
“You can’t live in fear your whole life. Sooner or later you have to admit the truth, to yourself at least,”  
Dean nodded slowly, taking deep breaths before speaking, “Maybe… Y’know, when we- for that little while I let go, and it felt good. Maybe we could…” he cut himself off before finding the end of the utterance.  
“I don’t want to be a secret Dean,”  
“So instead you’ll settle for Inias?” Dean huffed.  
“No- I don’t know, but I’m not climbing back into the closet with you,”  
“I’m not asking you to. But why not have something just for us? It’s no one else’s business anyway. You don’t need your family on your back and I don’t need mine. We can enjoy something without everyone else’s input, just us,” Dean reasoned, reaching out across the bench for Cas’ hand. Neither pulling away nor accepting the touch, Cas’ eyes were on Dean’s. There was a weight to the stare, searching for answers in the swirl of colour.  
“I think you should take me home,” Cas spoke eventually.  
“But-“  
“Take me home, Dean.”  
Dean pulled his hand away and restarted the engine to take them away. Cas was silent now, staring out the window. Dean caught glances of him, eyes shifting between Cas and the road ahead. He had really thought that he had Cas there. There was an openness and vulnerability that had been so suddenly snubbed out, leaving Dean cold when he should’ve known better than to lay himself out like that.  
In the silence, every mile of the drive seemed to stretch out just that little further, but eventually Dean parked himself outside of the Novak’s , turning to Cas to catch look of him before he would be leaving. He didn’t expect it, but Cas turned back and caught Dean’s eye again. He looked reluctant, but knew that he’d regret it if he said anything else, “I want you to come in.”  
Dean nodded, not wanting to break the moment. He shut off the engine, took a breath and followed Cas inside.  
Against everything he supposedly stood for, Dean found himself exactly where he had been a week earlier, the bedroom of Castiel Novak. They sat facing one another, anticipation playing between them, this time without the excuses. Cas reached out, his hand landing on Dean’s chest, his heart beating against the hand. Sharing each other’s gaze, the moment sank in as they sank into one another, lips just on the verge of touching: “are you sure?” Dean asked Cas, breathing against him.  
Cas nodded, “I want this, I can’t deny myself that, and if this is the only way I can have you, then I’ll oblige.”  
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Dean looked relieved, the nerves were still there, but this time from yearning rather than the before anxiety.  
“Just kiss me,” Cas rolled his eyes, fingers gripping at Dean’s shirt and pulling him just that bit closer until their lips connected, just as they had before. The fear wasn’t gone, but it had been pushed down, letting them find a peace for this moment.  
Dean wasn’t ready to open himself up and accept every part of himself, maybe he wouldn’t ever be ready for that, but for now- now he had a compromise of peace. He had Cas’ lips on his and for a moment, he could relax.


	3. Chapter 3

The break passed by faster than Dean had hoped it would. When the time came to pack up his things again and hit the road, Dean found himself not wanting to leave at all. He didn’t and wouldn’t regret his decision to go to college, (difficult as that was) but that didn’t mean that Dean wouldn’t miss home. He’d miss getting to see Sam every day after the months apart, he’d miss the clean air, and as much as he hated to admit it, Dean would miss Cas too. All those nights of sneaking in and out of Cas’ bed were over now. Dean was going away for months and it was too far to warrant a drive up for a quick visit. His absence brought them right up to Christmas and who knows how different things could be by then.  
The night before, Dean had stayed with Cas. Usually, he left before they both fell asleep, it was safer that way, then he’d sneak out and drive back home, telling Sam he’d been out at some bar rather than the truth. Staying out all night wasn’t quite so easy to hide. It had been a long while since Dean had needed to tiptoe around the house. It wasn’t so much that Dad cared about Dean going to parties or staying out all night, he was more bothered about Dean waking him or being a nuisance to Sam. It had given him a useful skill, though, in knowing every creak and hazard the house had to offer, so Dean could almost effortlessly navigate his way around in the pitch black of the night.   
Last night had been unusually sweet. It was a lot of slow kisses and soft stares in the moonlight. “I don’t want you to go,” Cas murmured, lips pressed against Dean’s skin and face buried in his neck. They had the house to themselves again, so there was really no need to whisper, except that they didn’t do this. They talked, sure, could even be emotional sometimes, but never about each other. As it was, there were no rules or guidelines and each time Dean left, he swore that was the last time and then found himself giving in to Cas all over again. Whatever they were, it was a blank slate, making it up as they went and whatever, they told themselves, their last night was different. They forgot to play it cool for that little while, nearly breaking their fragile bubble of a romance. This felt like an ending and Dean’s pride, just this once, didn’t stop him from being vulnerable in the face of that. He pressed a kiss to Cas’ hair, then pulled him up so that they were face to face.  
Now was the perfect opportunity, Cas was looking up at him with so much expectation. Cas had laid himself out already, Dean should, by right, return the favour and tell Cas that he don’t want to go either, that he’d miss Cas, that he didn’t want this to stop just because he was going away. Dean couldn’t say any of that. In two months, he had no idea how he would feel or how Cas would feel for that matter. It’s not like Dean could commit to Cas anyway. Dean was spending most of his time two states away only visiting occasionally and by the end of the year, Cas would be off to college too. The distance was too messy, it couldn’t be worth it. They had tonight, and that alone, nothing else was certain.   
Cas’ eyes slowly turned cold, as he realised that Dean wasn’t going to change his mind. All these nights would amount to nothing but memories, and even they could fade until there was no certainty whether it ever happened at all. “I could wait-“ Cas suggested, laying out that last glimmer of hope.  
“Don’t.” His voice was sudden, but Dean gave a sigh, cupping Cas’ jaw, “I can’t give you anything. You shouldn’t waste your time on me. What we have now, that’s all I can give you, and you deserve so much more.”  
Cas must have been biting his tongue, by the pained look that spread over him. Whatever he was going to say was swallowed down and he fell forwards, back into Dean’s chest. If this was their last night, they were going to hold onto it.   
Dean was the first to fall asleep and then Cas not long afterwards. They’d held out as long as they could, but eventually they had to give in to the abyss.   
It was a short-lived morning. Neither of them spoke much, all they could afford to say was said last night. Cas held on to Dean, urging “just a little longer,” every time he tried he get up. Eventually, Dean had to unwillingly pry himself away or else he’d never leave. Dean dressed into his clothes from last night, he really hadn’t meant to stay over, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave. It was hard enough now, and the mourning look on Cas’ face didn’t make it any easier.  
In his boxers, Cas walked Dean down to the door, half leant against the doorframe to get his last glance of Dean. “Hey, you’ll be so busy with school and everything, you’ll hardly notice I’m gone,” Dean encouraged.  
“Yes, I can’t wait to be third-wheeling Sam and Jess, that definitely won’t make me feel alone,” Cas gave a sigh.  
“I have to go, but if things were different-“  
“I know.”  
Dean moved back towards Cas, hand going to his side. “You’ll be okay, and you have my number if anything happens,” he said and Cas nodded along. He didn’t have long, but Dean still took his time falling into Cas, keeping the goodbye kiss slow and reluctant, but eventually he stepped back, hands coming away from Cas and their lips separating. He offered one final smirk to Cas, before he turned around, got into the impala, and drove away.

“You got everything?” Sam asked, frowning at Dean’s one packed bag.  
“Everything I need,” he shrugged, “everything else is split between here and there. You gonna be okay here on your own?”  
“Dad’s back sometime next week, I’ll probably make the most of the time alone,”  
“I doubt you’ll be alone though,” Dean smirked, “probably have Jess over the second I’m gone.”  
“Shut up,” Sam was already blushing, he was easy as ever to tease. He’d been just as bad when Jess had finally come over for their makeshift family dinner. It wasn’t much with just three of them, but they made the best of it.   
Dean had got in late the previous night and Sam could tell he was more than a little hungover by the time morning came. There was no hesitation before Sam was pulling that classic bitch face out, all pout and eyes rolling all over the place. Dean wasn’t even that bad. He and Cas had drank a little the previous night. The Novak’s had a freakin’ cinema room and still Cas was completely ignorant when it came to the holy grails of cinema. Dean was starting with Spielberg, Jurassic Park last night. It was worth the hangover just to see the light in Cas’ eyes. They had a couple of drinks between them and maybe didn’t quite get to the end of the movie, but Dean was in full swing for the dinner tonight whatever Sam, seemed to think   
“I don’t even know why you had to go out yesterday,” Sam whined, “this is really important to me, Dean, you can’t screw it up.”  
“I’m not going to, seriously, I’ve planned out an amazing dinner and I’ll be charming as always: Jess’ll love me so much she’ll forget all about you,” Dean teased.  
“You’re not funny,” Sam rolled his eyes, but seemed a little more relaxed, “just-just be ready by seven.”  
“Aye aye cap’n ,” Dean huffed a laugh and went upstairs to get showered before he’d start on the food preparations. 

The closer they got towards Jess’ impending arrival the more stressed out and obnoxious Sam was getting. Dean was making smooth progress with their dinner, to make up for missing the actual date, he was making a thanksgiving-style dinner for them, something formal enough to match the importance of the occasion. Dean knew what he was doing, this was exactly what he was training for. He was on a clear course to making the perfect meal for them, but that didn’t stop Sam from hovering over Dean, asking if he could smell burning, or if he was sure about some of the ingredients he was adding. Dean loved Sam more than anything in the world, but sometimes he could kill him. It didn’t take all that long for Dean to completely lose it and have Sam banished from the kitchen with a yell. Pulling off something like this was handwork enough without Sam’s added tension to the air, keeping Dean on edge. They still got through it though, and after all those hours of cooking, the food was as near perfect as Dean could manage, happily simmering away until Jess would be arriving any minute.   
Sam had Dean dressed in what would just about pass for a dress shirt and his best jeans, he even used some that fancy shampoo, Cas had given him and just enough product to stop his hair from fluffing all over the place. All things considered, Dean didn’t look too bad, now was the hard bit, he had to do Sam proud, beat the odds and not screw this up for him. Leave it to Sammy, to give Dean a numbered list of instructions, to prevent that exact thing from happening: 

• Don’t drink  
• Don’t flirt with Jess  
• Don’t talk out sex  
• Especially don’t talk about Sam and Jess’ sex life  
• Don’t be embarrassing  
• Be yourself  
Long story short, Dean was going to have to ignore every instinct he had; pretend they were some nice family and smile, all that whilst not being able to drink to take the edge off. It was definitely going to be fun.   
Having arrived all of five minutes late, Jess had scared Sam into a meltdown right up until the knock finally came at the door. Suddenly, the hyperventilating and pacing stopped, as Sam answered the door grinning at Jess, before welcoming her with a hug. From the couch, Dean watched the obstructed view of Sam’s back.  
“Hey! I’m so glad you’re here,” Sam said, having completely forgotten about her being late now  
“Hi,” Jess sounded equally excited, “”I’m glad I’m here too. I can’t wait to meet your brother.”  
“Yeah? He’s been working on dinner all day, so I think that means he’s excited too,” the pair were so sickly sweet together, Dean wasn’t sure how he’d manage a whole dinner’s worth of this; it was for Sam though, so Dean would have to try his best to save it up until after Jess was gone, then he could lampoon Sam for as long as it took to be justly satisfied.   
When the couple finally emerged from the hall, Dean found Jess to be far from what he’d expected: he’d thought the smart and funny girl Sam spoke about would be the very picture of a geek. Instead, Jess gave off an immediate sense of heat, with the gold of her hair, which was long and curled. However Dean looked at it, she was beautiful, he could only wonder how Sam had got so lucky.  
“Uh Jess, this is my brother, Dean. Dean this is Jess,” Sam said, nervously. He was holding Jess’ hand, watching her carefully.  
“Hi, it’s really great to meet you,” Jess beamed.  
“Yeah, you too, although I gotta say, you’re way out of my brother’s league, you realise that, right?” he huffed a laugh.  
“Dean, c’mon,” Sam warned.  
“Oh, trust me, I know,” Jess teased, turning to Sam with a grin, “but he’s not so bad really.”  
Dean watched Sam soften as he met Jess’ eye, but he rolled his eyes all the same, “I told you not to humour him,” he scolded, playfully.  
“Oh, so Sam gave you rules too?” Dean asked.  
“He gave you rules?” Jess laughed, looking at Sam in bemused disbelief, “you’re such a control freak.” She moved further into the room, pulling Sam along behind her and sat down on the couch,  
“Hey, I just want this to go well,” Sam defended.  
“Well, I want to meet your brother, not some robotic version of him you gave rules to, “she laughed, “so Dean, feel free to disregard everything Sam told you to do,” she said, as Sam shook his head behind her back. Dean just chuckled at the pair.  
“I’ll let you two figure this out between yourselves, while I go dish the grub up,” Dean decided, getting up and disappearing into the kitchen. As he organised the plates, he could hear Sam and Jess bickering in the room. Jess wasn’t what Dean had expected, but she was better, it was nice that Sam finally had an equal match. He set the plates down on the table and called the pair back in, since their voices had died down, he was too afraid to walk in on them. With Jess in control of the rules, Dean got himself a beer and sat down.   
“Dean, I can’t believe you did all this!” Jess exclaimed, looking down at the mountain of food piled gracefully on each plate, “it must have taken hours.”  
“Well, I’m not gonna be able to make it home for Thanksgiving this year, so this is kind if to make up for that.”  
“You’re not coming home for Thanksgiving?” Jess frowned, “Sam you never told me. You should totally spend it with my family, if you’re going to be alone,” she offered to Sam.  
“He’s not going to be alone. He’s got Dad,”  
Sam gave a scoff, ignoring Dean’s comment: “If your family is cool with it, I’d love to spend Thanksgiving with you,” he smiled warmly.  
Dean frowned. He didn’t like to think of Dad spending Thanksgiving alone, but he bit his tongue, he could always talk to Sam about that later. “Alright, let’s just eat,” Dean suggested, taking a sip of his beer, glad Sam hadn’t commented on it.   
As they ate, Dean told Jess some old stories about Sam, both of them revelling in his blush. Jess’ laugh was brash. Dean found out that she was interested in painting but wanted to go to law school, after she got her art degree. Sam showed Dean a photo of one of her paintings, she was actually really good, not that Dean knew anything about art.  
“I really want to paint Sam but he’s too impatient to sit for me,” Jess pouted.  
“I’m not too sure you could get a picture of Sammy to hang in a museum,” Dean laughed, shaking his head.  
“Why not? He’s gorgeous,” Jess insisted, cupping Sam’s jaw, who just rolled his eues.  
“You do realise he’s a total dork, right? Like, seriously. You’re really awesome, Jess,”  
“I realise, but Sam’s pretty awesome too,” she said, giving Sam a sweet smile. 

They stayed talking long after they’d all had their fill of food, right up until jess’ dad arrived and she had to go home.  
“Don’t ever let her go, Sammy,” Dean said sincerely, once Jess had gone. He could clearly see that Jess made him happy and that was worth holding on to.  
“So you really like her?” Sam asked, he hadn’t stopped grinning.  
“Yes, I really like her, and I’m serious: she is way out of your league,” Dean teased, making Sam laugh, “…but uh about Thanksgiving-“  
“Dean,” Sam sighed.  
“I know, but you should spend it with Dad, it’s your last year here with him. Maybe if you do want a proper Thanksgiving you could take Dad to Jess’,”  
“You want me to introduce Dad to Hess and her family? I do that and the relationship’s over.”  
Dean frowned, “he’s not that bad. You don’t need to be so harsh on him all the time.”  
“Dad doesn’t even care about Thanksgiving. It’ll be a microwave meal or he won’t be home at all. I’m going to Jess’ to have a real Thanksgiving.” Sam finished speaking and turned to head up the stairs, without giving Dean a chance to argue any further.

Dean started to pack up the car, hovering on the drive, finding himself now reluctant to leave.   
“It’s been real good to be back,” Dean admitted, looking up at the house. It was more than a little run down but it was the closest they’d had to a real home since the first one had burnt down. They’d set roots back up in their home town and spent more time together as a family than they had in all those years on the road.   
“It’s been good to have you back,” Sam confirmed, “even if we haven’t seen that much of each other, really.”  
“That’s not true,” Dean dejected.  
“You’ve been out basically every night and I’ve been going to Jess’. It’s not like it used to be.”  
Maybe Sam was right, Dean had hardly stayed away from Cas this past week. He couldn’t tear himself away.  
With Sam at Jess’, Dean found himself on the phone with Cas, trying to make plans. Cas had some homework he needed to get done, so he’d been busy the day before and the following morning, leaving Dean desperate for some contact.  
“-but I can come over tonight, right?” Dean asked, from where he was laid back on his bed, phone to his ear.  
“I wish you could,”  
“Then why don’t I?” Dean sighed.  
“Because I’m going out with Inias tonight,” Dean gave an elongated groan, “Dean, he’s my friend. He even went through the effort of making me a fraudulent ID so we can go to a bar .”  
“You don’t even like bars,”  
“Yes, but Inias is understandably bored of going out to get coffee all the time,”  
“Aw c’mon, Cas, it’s obviously just an excuse to get you drunk so he can try something with you,”  
“Well he can try what he wants, that doesn’t mean I’m going to reciprocate. I’m not interested in him like that and Inias is well aware, “  
“Like that’s going to stop him. Just stay in . I’ll come over and you’ll forget all about him,”  
“No. I have to go, but, you could come too. Inias has brought guests along before,” Cas suggested, Dean could feel him holding his breath.  
“Doesn’t Inias know Sam though?” Dean asked, the last thing he wanted was for this to get back to Sam.  
“Inias doesn’t go to our school, so I doubt he’d make any connection between my friend Sam and you. It’ll be okay, just come along,”  
“But come as what?”  
“You’re the one that doesn’t like labels,” Cas reminded him, “you can come as my lover.”  
“Lover?” Dean snorted, sometimes he could hardly understand why he was so obsessed with Cas, he had no right to talk like that and still be as hot as he was, “you are not introducing me to anyone as your fucking lover.”  
“Why not? I believe it’s fairly accurate for what we are. We have sex and hang out sometimes, but haven’t fallen into the heteronormative practise of labelling our relationship, “ Cas huffed, “would you prefer I tell him we’re ‘fuck buddies’?”  
“Yah that’s exactly how I want you to introduce me,” Dean rolled his eyes, “fuck me. Just text me the times and the bar and I’ll come pick you up and we’ll go together, okay?”  
“Yes, okay. Now I really need to finish my paper, but I’ll see you later, Dean,” Dean hung up the phone, tossing it down on the bed and gave out a sigh. This wasn’t how he saw bis first rendezvous with his lover going down, but if it stopped Inias from, being all over Cas it was well worth it.  
Dean got himself dressed up just that little more than he usually did to see Cas. Usually it was an old t-shirt and faded jeans, but now Dean felt the need for more. They were going to a bar after all, so why not put in the effort? His jeans were a little tight now, and it was a new-ish ‘dress-shirt’, really just a button up flannel, but it looked good enough to pass off as mor than that. Dean even put on some cologne he’d found in Dad’s room, before he headed out to pick Cas up.  
Dean honked the car once he was outside the house, looking up when the door opened, only to roll his eyes.  
“Take it off,” Dean huffed, seeing Cas yet again in that trench coat.  
“There’s nothing wrong with my coat, Dean,” Cas gave an exasperated sigh.  
“I jus’ wanna see what you’re wearing,”  
Cas put up a stink, but he did shuffle himself free off the extra layer. Underneath he was wearing a dark jumper, it was well oversized and hid most of Cas under it. Dean had tried to convince Cas to wear something a bit more human, but yet again he was unsuccessful.  
“You look nice,” Cas commented, giving Dean a small smile.  
“You don’t,”  
“This is comfortable and it’s chilly out: I’m dressed appropriately,”   
“Well, I wish you’d dress inappropriately,” Dean smirked at him, hand curling around Cas’ thigh.  
“You know what my body looks like. So unless you want Inias ogling me all night, this is how I’m dressing.”  
Dean gave a groan, but let go of Cas and started the car, driving them to the bar. He asked Cas about his paper as they drove, it was nothing too interesting, but he asked all the same. Cas who had always been quiet, seemed pretty eager to answer his questions and spoke the whole way there.

The bar was one of those sleek buildings, sliding along a black and white pallet. Girls held wine with fruit floating around inside or cocktails of red and orange. It smelt like new money and paint and there were enough people crowded around that they could walk through invisible. He didn’t hold Cas’ hand, but they stood close enough that he knew Cas’ hand was right there next to his own, just a reach away.  
Before making any attempt to hunt down Inias, Dean suggested they get some drinks. Cas got a gin, with cucumbers floating around inside, Dean did like the idea of having an alcohol soaked snack waiting at the end of your drink, but he got a beer anyway. Cas paid. The bartender didn’t ask for ID but Cas showed her all the same, happy to show off his new fake.  
“Inias said he’s here, can you see him anywhere?” Cas asked, sipping through his straw as he glanced through the crowd. Dean didn’t put too much effort into the search, hoping they wouldn’t even find him. He and Cas could have a much better night on their own.  
“He’s there!” Dean had no luck with that plan, begrudgingly following behind Cas, rolling his eyes as Cas was pulled into a hug by an already tipsy Inias.  
“Ooh! I’m so glad that you made it. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, but we can make up for that twice over, tonight,” Inias decided, even as he pulled back from the hug he still held onto Cas’ hips, keeping him far too close. Before Inias got the chance to roll into some other camp speech, Dean put a stop to it, loudly clearing his throat, forcing Inias to look away from Cas.  
“Excuse me?” Inias blinked at Dean, almost looking right through him. Dean shouldn’t be surprised the prick didn’t remember him.  
“Inias, this is Dean,” Cas reminded him, moving back to stand next to Dean, “he and I are fuckbuddies (“Cas!” Dean groaned shaking his head, “I was fucking joking when I said that.”), I hope you don’t mind that I brought him along.” Inias looked in complete shock. The blazer stared in disbelief at the second-hand man in front of him, and then to Cas, eyes questioning. “Inias?”  
“Yes. I had hoped that we could spend some time just the two of us (Dean knew what that meant) but I suppose your… “  
“Fuckbuddy,” Cass finished, looking up at Dean with that gummy smile.  
“yes, that won’t get in the way of us having a good time,” Inias nodded, clearing his throat, “Well, sit down, both of you, I’m going to get us a round of drinks.” Inias moved past them as quickly as he could, disappearing towards the bar, despite the pair already having full drinks. Den was just glad he was gone for now.   
Cas sat down in the booth first and Dean slid in next to him, their shoulders touching. “I’m going to kill you,” Dean chuckled, shaking his head.  
“I only did what you told me,” Cas shrugged, biting his lip and leaning into Dean’s side, bullshitting through his innocence.  
“Don’t get smart with me, Cas,” Dean warned   
“Hmm? And what would you do about that?” Cas teased.  
“I’m sure I could think of something,” Dean shrugged, his hand curling around Cas’ thigh, giving a squeeze.   
Cas gave a hum, electricity flowing between them, “you’re cute,” Cas smirked, lifting his chin up, getting closer to Dean, “but that’s not really your style.”  
“So what is my style?” Dean raised his brow. He gave a quick look around them, no one seemed to be paying any attention.  
Cas never got the chance to answer Dean, their lips too quickly wound up connected. It had barely been a day since they had last done this, but Dean was hungry, kissing Cas deeply and licking into his mouth. At first Cas was a bit more reserved, but he quickly gave in to it, sucking on Dean’s bottom lip. Dean’s hand snaked deeper into Cas’ thigh, until he was rubbing over his crotch under the table, making him groan against his lips. They were far from discreet, but Dean was too caught up to care all that much As long as Cas was around, everyone else in the room may as well fadeaway. Cas was all that he had room to care about these days, drawing each other closer and closer, until- slap! Inias, with force, slammed a drink down on the table, forcing the pair apart, and his lips twisted into a smile as he placed the other drinks.  
“Drink up,” he encouraged, sipping at his own, Dean was half scared they were poisoned, at least that his was.  
Cas was sporting a semi through his jeans, shifting uncomfortably. His lips were bruised and cheeks flushed, but they stayed close all the same, the three of them drinking in silence.  
It wasn’t the worst night out Dean had ever been on, but the tension was getting to be unbearable and they hadn’t even finished their first drinks. All the while, Inias was smiling bright and false.   
“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” Inias decided, just as Dean gulped down his last mouthful.  
“There’s not really much to know,” Dean shrugged, looking to Cas for support. He didn’t offer much in return, but his lips were curled up like this was an entirely ordinary conversation.  
“I’m sure that’s not true. Well, why don’t you tell me how you and Cas know one another?”  
“It’s like Cas said, we’re f-“  
“Yes! but how did you meet,” Inias quickly; interrupted.  
“Uh,” Dean looked back to Cas. He really didn’t want this to make its way back to Sam.  
“Dean used to go to my school. He graduated last year, but we’ve stayed in touch,” Cas offered.  
“This has been going on for that long?”  
“No, this,” Cas looked to Dean and smiled through his words, “this is new.”  
Dean was nauseous, maybe it was from the strain of biting back his smile or containing the urge to kiss Cas again, but he felt sick all the same. Dean got up with the excuse of getting them another round of drinks. He went out to the street and smoked a cigarette, needing the fresh air, at least the cold of it. Cas was usually cold, he liked to complain about it so Dean would wrap his arms around Cas and keep him warm like that, with their bodies pressed together. Cas wasn’t doing anything to cool Dean down tonight.   
When he made his way back to the bar, Dean couldn’t remember the names of the cocktails Cas and Inias had been drinking, so just asked for something ‘girly and fruity’, along with his beer. Whilst he waited, Dean could feel eyes on him, spotting a girl sat near him at the bar. She was dressed up, makeup done and a short dress. Dean offered her a smile when she did the same. Another night he might have been in for a chance, but for now it was a lost cause, especially after the bar tender handed him the drinks.   
Two screams of colour in one hand and the beer in the other, Dean slowly got back to their table. Inias had moved across and was now sat down in Dean’s seat, his arm was wrapped around Cas, whom was grinning, gum and all. Dean had only known himself to be on the receiving end of that smile. Dean sat himself down where Inias had been and passed along the drinks.  
“What’s this?” Inias asked, just about turning away from Cas to see his drink. Of course it wasn’t right.  
“I couldn’t remember what you wanted,” Dean shrugged, “that should be okay though, it’s basically the same thing.”  
“It quite clearly isn’t ‘the same’,” Inias sighed, “but I suppose I’ll manage.”  
Dean rolled his eyes, it was Inias’ fault for not asking for a normal drink, what did he expect? Cas hadn’t said anything either way, too busy snuggling into Inias to take any notice. He dove straight into their next topic without another pause, leaving Dean to listen along clueless. Cas was laughing and grinning, talking loudly and eagerly, his voice even started to melt into Inias’, interrupting one another and giggling as rhymed line after line. The tongue in Dean’s mouth was bitter, twisting him down in to a frown. He’d cooled down a little too much, becoming angular and sharp. Dean drank his beer and finished off Inias’ drink, after he’s decided he didn’t like it, apparently this mix of fruit and alcohol wasn’t as good as the one he’d originally wanted. Dean liked it though, it was sweet and sharp. He either liked it or he was too far gone to have high standards. Either way, Dean was really starting to feel sick now: Inias and Cas were far too close, they looked fucking adorable and Dean couldn’t bear to watch them play at romance any longer.  
“You do know Cas isn’t into you, right?” The deep gaze into one another’s eyes stopped, and they snapped to Dean’s attention now. Cas looked like he’d been shot, staring down at the blood pooling in disbelief. Inias on the other hand was too sharp for that kind of emotional reaction. Dean knew that had pissed him off, but all the while Inias kept that empty smile on his lips.  
“I’m sorry? Have I done something wrong?”  
Dean snarled, teeth bared in warning, “Not yet, but I jus’ wanna make sure we’re clear, cause Cas, he ain’t even remotely interested in you, so don’t get any ideas about forcing yourself on him again.”  
“Dean-“ Cas’ voice was higher than usual, shaking his head.  
“I’ve never forced myself on Castiel.” Inias spoke clearly.  
“That’s not how he sees it. Publicly making him kiss you because of a stupid dare, doesn’t sound like Cas was too willing there. Y’know he even came crying to me after that, but it’s okay, I made sure to comfort him,” Dean sneered.   
Inias hesitated a moment, taken aback, “It can’t have been too traumatic for Castiel, that was far from the first time we’ve kissed. Cassie and I have had plenty of consensual fun.”  
“What?”  
“You mean to say that Castiel never told you? I’m shocked,”  
“Cas?” Dean turned, but Cas wasn’t looking at him, “fuck this!” Carelessly, Dean rose from his seat, chest tightly heaving. He needed Cas to look at him, just one look, to deny it, was all he needed. Nothing. Cas couldn’t tear his eyes away from the table, leaving Dean no choice but to get the hell out of there.  
“Dean!” Cas called after him one it was too late.  
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Inias reached out for Cas.  
“Don’t- I need to make sure he’s okay,” Cas got up, chasing behind Dean.   
As Dean made his way through the bar, the room started to rotate around him, picking up speed with every turn. He felt like he was going to collapse, the air suffocating him with every gasping breath. Staggering wildly, Dean fell into the bathroom, hands throwing water onto the panting face in the mirror.   
“Dean!” Cas’ voice followed Dean in, snapping him back to a focus.  
“You fucked him!”  
Cas winced, shrinking down.  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“You’ve not told me about everyone you’ve been with-“  
“Don’t. Don’t do that. You told me you didn’t want to be with him. You remember that? On that first night, that’s what you told me. And now I find out you’ve been fucking him for- I don’t even wanna know how long,”  
“That’s not fair. You decided ‘no strings attached,’ not me. You don’t want me to be anything real to you, so you have no right to be upset about who I have a history with!”  
“Then why did you invite me here? So I could watch you two like that? You were practically sat on each other and you didn’t give me a second look. If you want him fucking have him,” Dean spat.  
“I’m here with you! If I wanted Inias I’d be out there with him, but I’m here. I’m with you… and all you care about is your jealousy,”  
“I’m not jealous!”   
Cas sighed, “forget it, Dean,” he turned to leave.  
“Okay!” Dean grabbed at Cas’ arm, stopping him from leaving, “maybe I am jealous: I’m gonna be leaving soon and you’ll be here with him and I can’t even think about that.”  
Cas looked up at Dean, eyes big, “so you don’t want me to be with Inias, but you won’t really be with me?”  
“I’m sorry,” Dean sighed and Cas pulled away, “no-c’mon. I know it’s shitty, but I’m not there yet, I’m not ready to deal with that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, cause I do, I really do,” Dean reached back out and Cas let himself be pulled close, “I know I don’t make it easy, but I’ll make it up to you, I’ll even apologise to Inias for being a dick tonight. Yeah?”  
“Yeah,”  
Dean smiled, dipping down just enough to find Cas’ lips. The tension from the argument hadn’t quite left the room, trapped in for them to breath in as Dean’s lips parted, welcoming Cas in. Dean meant it, he was going to make it up to Cas, deepening the kiss, and stepping back until they were backed to the wall. His hands snaked from Cas’ hips, to press at his crotch and then to the zipper.  
“Dean-“ Cas breathed.  
“Lock the door,” Dean muttered, moving down onto his knees. The sound was shaken, but the lock twisted into place and Dean had Cas’ pants undone. Not hesitating another moment, Dean’s lips went around the head, pulling a shiver out of Cas. With his hand stroking over the length, Dean sucked at the head, drawing hushed noises out of Cas. Dean didn’t get much chance to tease Cas like that, when hands went into his hair gripping just that little too tight. With a look up at Cas, Dean bobbed his head, taking more of Cas into his mouth. His hands went to Cas’ hips, encouraging him to move. Cas groaned in pleasure, but quickly obliged, started to fuck into Dean’s mouth. Even as Dean gaged, he wouldn’t let Cas stop, forcing his throat to relax. They didn’t have much time, but Dean wanted to do this for Cas, make him feel good.  
“Fuck-“ Cas hissed and Dean knew he wouldn’t be lasting much longer. Cas’ thrusts were nowhere near as controlled anymore, trying to chase his orgasm as Dean teased at his balls. “Dean!” he warned in a high whine, tensing his hands on Dean again. Dean readied himself, then swallowed Cas down as he came, suckling at him until Cas was wincing. Dean got himself up and kissed at Cas’ lips shortly, smirking all the while. Once Cas had straightened himself up, Dean reached out for his hand, entwining his fingers.   
“My Dad’s home, but I think we’d get away with it…” Castiel suggested.  
“I should go home,” Dean shook his head.  
“But everything you just said-“  
“Hey, at least you got to cum, I’m the one that’s left high and dry. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home,”  
“Okay,” Cas sighed, following Dean out. 

“We’ll spend more time just us, next time, yeah?” Dean offered to Sam, “we’ll both make more of an effort… right, c’mon let’s get this over with,” Dean stepped back up to where Sam was, arms going around one another and holding on to the tightness of the hug. As much as he couldn’t give up his time with Cas, Dean did wish that he’d seen more of Sam. The whole point of coming home was to see him after all and god knows Dean would be missing Sam in the upcoming months until he could be back for Christmas. He held onto Sam for just that little longer, until he patted his back and had to step back. Dean walked back down to the car, climbing into the driver’s seat. Waving goodbye to Sam, Dean started the engine and pulled away from home. There were eight hours ahead of him, until Dean would be on the other side, college and work waiting for him there. With the music turned up, Dean left the town behind and left Cas behind. Cas with his hair stuck up in the morning, Dean pulling Cas back into bed for one more kiss, Cas straddling Dean’s hips so he could draw invisible lines between the freckles on his chest, Dean waking up to Cas in the morning. The music didn’t stand a chance at drowning out the memories. He crossed boarders, but he never quite left Cas behind, carrying that along with him all the way back to Texas.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little different than the previous, with more of a focus on Cas' POV than Dean this time. I hope you like it!

The winter term of Castiel’s senior year was set up to be the longest he would ever experience. Finding himself at the furthest point away from seeing Dean again, Castiel was left to endure the aching absence without anyone to share it with. After the tumultuous meeting of Dean and Inias, Castiel had barely heard a word from his friend. Even if Castiel could turn to Inias, he doubted that Inias would appreciate hearing about the agony of pining, when Inias himself was undoubtedly doing the same thing. That only left Castiel with Sam. Under normal circumstances, Sam was the perfect company for any problem Castiel was dealing with. Sam would sit, and listen, and then offer suggest for what Castiel could do. It was Sam that Castiel would turn to after a particularly hard night with his parents. Sam had been nothing but accepting and often made Castiel feel even a glimmer of hope when his circumstances were at their most hopeless. Now however, Sam was completely off limits. Castiel had himself closed off out of fear that he would let slip the truth about Dean and himself.  
The hardest part of keeping a secret, is that it can often feel like lying. Each morning when Castiel met Sam, so they could walk to school together, he was lying. Sam would ask Castiel how he was doing, and Castiel would lie, simply unable to tell him the truth for the sake of the secret. It was exhausting. As luck would have it, these days, Sam was usually too busy to make much time for Castiel anyway. Sam was as infatuated with Jess as Castiel was with Dean. Of course, Sam and Jess had the benefit of openness in their relationship. Castiel would watch them hold hands or eat lunch together or listen to the stories Sam would tell and feel a swell of envy. He was all but certain, that if their circumstances were different, that could be him and Dean. They could revel in the affection and openness that others were granted freely. Instead they had this. It wasn’t Dean’s fault. Castiel himself was hardly an incentive to come out, after all Castiel’s parents had been far from accepting. Castiel didn’t know all that much about Dean’s father, but he couldn’t imagine the man Sam had described, welcoming his son with open arms. 

Castiel hadn’t seen all that much of his own father in the past months, almost like he had joined Castiel’s mother and sister on their getaway to visit his maternal grandmother. Castiel’s father remained and they lived side by side, but completely separate from one another. In the mornings, Castiel would wake up to find a used coffee mug on the table, left behind by his father. He would notice there was a little less butter in the tub and a slice of bread missing. Everywhere he saw the remains of his father, but he never seemed to catch ahold of the man himself. It was impressive, really. There was definite skill to this parallelism and its ability to isolate Castiel completely.  
As much as it hurt, Castiel couldn’t help but understand his father’s disappointment. Whilst not an emotionally driven man, his father had never strayed away from his pride of Castiel. Each report card or essay brought with it grin and praise. “You’re going to do incredible things, Castiel,” he had been told again and again. Stretched out in front of him lay the road his father wanted Castiel to follow. He would join the family business, even take over after his dad died, with his own wife and a son to continue the legacy thereon. It didn’t matter that Castiel had never been particularly interested in finance, the dealbreaker as far as his father was concerned was his homosexuality, there was no getting around that. Castiel had liked to believe that their entire relationship was built on more than a wish-fulfilment, but he had been wrong. His refusal to carry on the family legacy had formed a tear in their bond that his father was not willing to move past. To go from, being his father’s favourite, at least according to Gabriel, to cold distance was unbearable. Part of Castiel was missing and it couldn’t be fixed.   
For as empty as the house felt now, five years ago it had been full. All six of them were home and filling the rooms with chatter and warmth. Castiel’s older brothers, Michael and Gabriel had both since moved out, with Gabriel two years older than Castiel and Michael five. In an unfortunate twist, Michael had gone on to politics. Thus far, he hadn’t been able to cause too much damage, only working at a small-town level, but knowing Michael’s drive, the chances were he could rise to the very top. Castiel loved his brother, but he didn’t love all of his opinions, any of them for that matter. He had always thought Michael should be the one to inherit the business. He was oldest, most capitol driven, and most like their father out of any of the Novak children, but without disgracing himself, Michael got to live as he saw fit.  
It was no surprise that the business inheritance had jumped right over Gabriel and on to Castiel. Everyone loved Gabriel, but the reasons he was loved were the very same reasons why he was unfit to run any kind of business. Gabriel and chaos were so intrinsically tied together that it was impossible to have in without the other somehow making an appearance. You hear a smashing or the sound of screaming laughter and there was Gabriel. It was him that Castiel missed the most. He was always there to keep the peace with distractions when the rest of the family was on the verge of war. He could salvage any situation into light-heartedness. Castiel wished he was here now to keep the family afloat when Castiel felt so alone. Even so, he didn’t have the heart to tell him just how bad things were. He doubted there was a joke Gabriel could use to fix this. Castiel had been broken away from the family, and he was far too scared to put Gabriel in a position of choosing sides.   
It might seem logical that Castiel would regret his coming out and would wish to take it back to live in peace with his family again, but that wasn’t the case at all. Castiel’s only regret was that his family wasn’t ready to accept him. Living a closeted life wasn’t an option. His sexuality was as much a part of who Castiel was as the rest of his personality. An attempt to split himself up and play at heterosexuality, would only cause him more pain. Castiel could withstand the neglect from his family, but to do it to himself was something he refused to do. Suppressing who he was, was not something Castiel would do, not for his family or anyone. That was part of his difficulty with Dean. It was a dilemma that Castiel didn’t have an answer for. Castiel couldn’t force Dean into being ready, that was something he would have to come to terms with on his own, but that didn’t stop Castiel wishing that the secrets could stop. Dean wouldn’t even admit to Castiel, the man he had been sleeping with, that he was even vaguely attracted to men. Their relationship- if Castiel was even allowed to call out that, was an angry paradox, and it was eating Castiel alive. For all the pain and turmoil it caused, Castiel couldn’t deny himself from Dean or even resent Dean for forcing him into this corner. For every reason why Castiel should remove himself fully from all things Dean, he couldn’t. To have Dean in even the most miniscule of ways was worth it all. It was toxic but Castiel couldn’t bring himself to care. His world had become Dean for all his inconsistencies and risks.

Since he had left, Castiel hadn’t heard all that much from Dean, and when he did he wished that he hadn’t. Late in the night, his phone would light up the room. ‘I wish you were here.’ ‘I miss you.’ It wouldn’t take Castiel long to figure out that Dean was consistently drunk when he did have the urge to text. He would call Dean and sigh at the slur in his voice, words melting together. He wanted to ask Dean how he was, but knew that Dean would never answer truthfully or at the very least would be angry that Castiel had even asked. Talking to Dean when he was like this was like walking a dizzy line. The hurt echoed in every word, but Castiel could never quite manage to tame it long enough for Dean to open up. The next morning, Dean would apologise for the night before and then there would be nothing, until the next time.   
Their time together had seemed to be full of growth and change. There was that softness in Dean, Castiel could see it shining brightly, but every glimpse only made Dean cover it up even more. Whenever Castiel forced himself to step aside from the emotionality and think as rationally as he could about Dean, he knew deep down that nothing had really changed since that first night, when Dean kissed him and ran. Dean was still running, only ever stopping to catch his breath before he could set off again. Castiel chased him anyway. The party had acted as a prelude, rather than a beginning. As doomed as they seemed to be, a bad beginning could be fatal. Their first night, whilst still adequately rocky, felt sweet and gentle all the same.  
“You can come in,” Castiel’s heart was racing, as he opened the passenger door to get out of the impala. This was after their disaster of a dinner with Sam, tension were still high and coaxed with discomfort. Despite the colossal of drawbacks against the decision, Dean followed Castiel in all the same. The house was quiet like the dead of night, only interrupted by creaks in the floorboards until they got to Castiel’s room, finally alone together.   
“Apart from us,” Castiel told him, “the house is empty.”  
“What about your Dad? I thought you were gonna get him to pick you up,” Dean reminded, thinking back to Castiel’s excuse at dinner.  
“Oh,” Castiel could feel himself flush, “he’s at work. That was a poorly veiled excuse. I would have asked Inias to pick me up, instead.”  
Dean pulled a face, “he’s such a dick.”  
Castiel gave a sigh. He shouldn’t have been so vocal about his relationship with Inias. Especially not when he had been so hysterical, it hadn’t been fair and it equally wasn’t an accurate portrayal of their relationship. For his flaws, of which Castiel himself wasn’t lacking, Inias was Castiel’s oldest friend. They had been through so much together that one bad night was irrelevant compared to all the good nights they’d had together. “I don’t recall you being a perfect gentleman, either, Dean,” Castiel huffed.  
“I know, and I’m sorry for that, I really am. I meant what I said, in the car. Yeah, I’m not ready to think about this- what it means- too hard, but all I know is that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I can’t function properly like this and I can’t promise anything, but I wanna give it a shot, at least,” Dean admitted.  
Castiel was left completely torn. He had no doubt as to the honestly of Dean’s words, but that was what made it all the worse. Dean had nothing to offer him except the present tense, there was no possibility of future of any deeper meaning together. Castiel was simply the object of Dean’s current cravings and it was public knowledge that Dean had a long history of cravings. Castiel could remember, from even last year, when they had still been in high school together, he would watch girl after girl fall victim to Dean’s affection and then be flung aside as he moved on to the next, in some meagre attempt at fulfilling his appetite. Once, Castiel had judged them, and rolled his eyes as, like dominos, they could fall for green eyes and freckles. With his reputation, they had to know that Dean’s intention were far from pure, it was downright foolish to play into him. It was easy enough to say that as an onlooker, but know that he was first-hand to the soft in Dean’s eye and the plea in his words, all that foresight and superiority amounted to nothing. Castiel was just like all the others, he fell forwards and kept on falling until his lips met Dean’s and they bound together like hot metals melting into one another like they were one.   
This kiss was different than their first. They were both sober- although not quite clear of mind- and more in control of themselves now. Sloppy and recklessness was replaced with a more careful, reserved kiss, not to mean that it was boring or too tame. No. Dean was still fire, but this kiss was a slow dance. They moved together as a unit, not fighting one another off, but swaying together in time to the drizzle of rain that came splashing against the window. Rather than a rush for time, the kiss deepened naturally as they found themselves coming closer together. Castiel’s hand went to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s to his waist. Like hands of a clock they faded down into the mattress, bodies able to meet now. When Dean went to the material of his shirt, preparing to take it off, Castiel pulled his lips back just slightly. “Dean. Are we- I mean, do you want to-?” Castiel started, already beginning to stutter on his words.  
“Sex? Uh, I want to,” Dean admitted, lightly flushed. They were breathing in the same air and breathing out onto one another.   
“But sex how?”  
“As in you don’t know?” suddenly Dean was wide eyes, like he’d run and never look back.  
“I’m not a virgin, Dean,” Castiel rolled his eyes, “ but I wasn’t sure if you would be okay with penetrative sex.”  
“Ugh! Not when you say it like that,” Dean pulled his face, “just call it anal, you don’t gotta make it sound so mechanical.”  
“I only used the correct terminology,”  
“Yeah, well there’s nothing sexy about ‘correct terminology’,” Dean huffed.  
“So?”  
“So?”  
“Are you okay with it?” Castiel asked, refocusing them.  
“With- with- yeah,” Dean nodded, more than a little flushed.  
Castiel smiled, going back in and connecting their lips to heat the room back up after their break. It didn’t take all that long for them to get distracted again by the kiss. Castiel found himself on top of Dean, with Dean yanking at his clothes in a desperation to remove them. He hadn’t been quite sure how this would work out logistically. Whilst Dean seemed to take a traditional approach to shield his masculinity and exerted control over keeping whatever they were a secret Dean didn’t seem all that eager to regain control from Castiel at this moment. As Castiel licked into Dean’s mouth, leading the kiss, Dean made no move to shift the control, but seemed pretty content to ease himself of it, at least judging by the hums he was giving off.   
When they were both down to just their boxers, Castiel rolled his hips down onto Dean, unable to contain a groan at the friction between them. Dean was warm underneath him and kissing deliberately at his neck. They existed on the brink of losing control. The house was empty but their moans stayed hushed and each move was careful o as it to not leave behind any remaining evidence of them being together. Castiel didn’t even mind all that much, he couldn’t bring himself to. When he shifted away to search for the lube in his bedside table, Dean had rolled onto his front, leaving himself bare and laid out for Castiel. Castiel had to stop for a moment, captivated by the sight of Dean like that, every curve of him there for Castiel to take in and no one else. The trail of freckles down Dean’s spine, luring Castiel down to condemnation, and how could he do anything but follow. Dean was growing inpatient, so Castiel had to hope that he’d get the chance to see all this again, to appreciate Dean again. He coated a finger in lube, slowly and carefully circling it around Dean’s entrance, watching him, shiver, before slowly pushing into the heat, pushing until, he was knuckle deep in Dean. It was a thought that made him want to giggle, like some impossibly inappropriate fantasy, but this was his reality, with Dean at his mercy.   
Considering Dean’s heterosexuality, Castiel wasn’t sure how experienced Dean would be so he didn’t want to rush through the prep. The last thing he wanted was for this to be a bad experience for Dean, so he slowed himself down, taking his time to build Dean up to even two fingers. Castiel new that, especially at first, this could feel strange, but Dean’s hips were pushing back against him, trying to take in more and Dean seemed to be having a difficult time at keeping quiet, muffling groans into a pillow.   
“Fuck- Cas, c’mon!” Dean’s voice strained around the words like fists clinging at sheets.  
“You have to be properly prepped,” Castiel scolded, his voice smooth and condescending. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself, watching how quickly Dean had unrestrained himself from his pride. As a reward, Castiel added a third finger, a little quicker this time, causing Dean to gasp and then melt into a moan. Castiel worked the fingers into Dean and then scissored them open. Castiel worked Dean to his very last restraint, until he was crying out half in anger, “will you just fucking fuck me already?”  
Castiel could have laughed, but instead he pressed a kiss to the base of Dean’s spine and pulled out of him. He reached back into the drawer for a condom, rolling it on and adding some more lube just in case. “Turn around,” he requested, voice soft. There was a moment of silence, and Castiel worried that Dean wouldn’t want to face him. Castiel waited a second moment and then, seemingly begrudgingly, Dean obliged, looking up at Castiel.  
Castiel lined himself up, then leaned down to Dean, connecting their lips as he slowly started to push in. In kiss and heat, the boundaries between their bodies merged, until they were like one. Castiel worked slowly at first, hips moving in a slow rhythm. Dean’s hands went around his back, trying to grab ahold of his skin, urging Castiel to go just that little faster. When they needed to breath, their lips parted, sharing the same hot air, until Dean buried himself away in the crook of Castiel’s neck. The feel off Dean, Dean who he’d admired from afar for so long, was almost unbearable. It was intense enough to make Castiel want to run, but Dean was tight and warm around him, only puling Castiel in closer and deeper, faster. They panted out moans and the need for more. Dean’s breath was right there in his ear, chanting at ‘Cas’ with his thrusts. Castiel never wanted it to end, but they going too fast now. He reached down between them, taking ahold of Dean and stroking him with the movement of their hips. Dean cried out his warning and their lips connected again, until Dean was coming between them, barely leaving time for Castiel to follow suit before they collapsed down onto the sheets, skin on skin, still just as connected.

They shared slow, lazy kisses for a long time afterwards, neither of them having the willpower to do anything else, but it couldn’t last forever. Eventually Dean got up, tearing away from Castiel’s arms to dress back into his clothes as if nothing had changed. His face was sterner now, enforcing a new atmosphere into the room. At that time, Castiel hadn’t known if Dean would return or if the next time they saw each other they would each pretend that this had never happened in awkward silence. Castiel didn’t get out of the bed, he left Dean to sneak out at his own will, without being escorted away. There wasn’t going to be a goodbye kiss or any other recognition, so there was no point. He clung to the last heat of them, almost as if Dean’s arms were still around him, but he was long gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another Cas chapter... Hope you enjoy!

Thanksgiving rolled around sooner than Castiel would have liked. What was once his favourite holiday, in past years had turned cold. Long gone were the days when the whole family would pile into the car for that long drive to their grandparents’. Before Anna was born, Castiel always found himself stuck in between Gabriel and Michael for the journey, acting as a barrier to stop the two from fighting, but ended up as collateral damage. With the addition of Anna’s car seat, Castiel found himself demoted to the very back of the car. He was eight at the time, small enough and young enough that he was the least likely to complain about the cramped back seat. It wasn’t so bad when it came to the school run, but Castiel quickly got lonely when it came to travelling to Indiana. He watched, from the crack in between the seats, as Gabriel tried to keep the baby entertained, even offering her sweets from the bag of sugar he insisted was necessary for the journey- thankfully Michael was there to prevent Gabriel from inadvertently killing Anna with his fun intentions. Castiel heard argument and conversation, without ever getting to be a part of them. They were a couple of hours into the drive, when they stopped for gas and to change Anna’s diaper. Castiel had begged Gabriel to come sit with him, leaning over the car seat and tugging at his shirt, until his older brother begrudgingly obliged. It ended up being the most fun on a car journey Castiel had ever had. At first Castiel was nervous, watching Gabriel play his pranks, and wait for the trouble to ensue, but eventually out of boredom he gave in to the fun of it. They took it in turns sticking sweets in Michael’s hair and sharing hushed giggles. Their real-life buckaroo. They got all the way up to fifteen sweets, before Michael felt the tug at his hair. It happened in slow motion. First Michael stiffened, Castiel could see the frown from the back of his head, and then came the lug of a hand, reaching and then groping at the back of his head until it came away, sticky haribo in tow. Normally, Castiel would have felt guilty, but he had to admit that Michael deserved it. It happened to be Michael’s turn to choose a movie for them to watch on the portable DVD player. They had a very limited selection of DVDs their parents would let them watch, but all the same they could find something suitable yet entertaining. No. Michael had decided the most appropriate DVD for them was a documentary about the water cycle. At 14 Michael had the character of a man triple his age. “Mother!” came the scream, “look at what he’s done to me! Look!”  
“Gabriel!”  
Gabriel argued back against the immediate accusation with fervidity, especially as, so he claimed, there was no proof that he had anything to do with it. All the while Gabriel argued his innocence, there was no mention of Castiel. Castiel was just as guilty as Gabriel, but his brother refused to implement him in the crime, taking the fall for the two of them. If he wouldn’t have been hit for it, Castiel would have happily snuggled up next to his big brother. Long car journeys hiding their laughter became as intrinsic a thanksgiving tradition as turkey itself. But, Childhood passed like a summer turning into dark, starless skies: Michael and then Gabriel, two years later, turned into guests on visits that seemed much too short and much too far apart. Gabriel’s first no-show was hardly a surprise to anyone, but it broke Castiel all the same. Celebration and fun had become isolated with no platform to break away from good behaviour.   
His last Thanksgiving before graduation was Castiel’s first since coming out. His parents had been a risk that didn’t pay off, so there was no point in pretending that coming out to his grandparents was even an option. Castiel wrote it off as a generational error, but he knew well enough that it was a political attribute, choosing ignorance in favour of acceptance, the very same way his parents had. Castiel wasn’t looking forwards to his father’s watchful eye, making sure he was performing heterosexuality convincingly enough, but Castiel would grit and tooth it; flawed as they were, this was his family and he hoped to God that this would be the last time he would have to put up with them before breaking free. One final goodbye. Castiel had to put himself first and realise that all this lying and living on the edge of a knife was too toxic for him to live with forever. He was going to behave one last time, listen to his grandfather talk with uncomfortable fondness about the war, his cousins sing off key to the national anthem in honour of a tradition that started when they were five, have his grandmother pile another round of food onto his plate because Castiel was ‘too skinny’. The negatives might tip the scale of the positives, but in all his nostalgia, Castiel loved his family and would love them in memory where they belonged. 

Castiel was in the midst of packing for his grandparents, when there was an urgent knock at the door and a whine of ‘Cas!’. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, as he opened the door and was met by the estranged look of Anna. There was no explicit law set in place, but Castiel ,and he assumed Anna, knew fully well that this meeting was illicit.   
“When did you get home?” Castiel asked, he hadn’t been expecting to see Anna until Thanksgiving, assuming she and his mother would stay on with their grandparents.  
“Yesterday,” Anna said obviously, “no wonder you never came to say hi.”  
“Oh. Yeah…”   
“Do you have room in your suitcase?” Castiel noticed now that Anna had a pile of crumpled clothes stacked up in her arms.   
“You do realise we’re only going for the weekend, right?” Castiel chuckled awkwardly, stepping aside to let Anna into the room. She dumped the clothes on the bed, like they hadn’t spent months without talking.  
“Yah but I’m still stuck with that Tinkerbelle suitcase, Dad won’t let me have another,”  
“And? My point still stands. It’s just the weekend, you shouldn’t need a suitcase’s worth of stuff,”  
“You try and fit your clothes in it and see how you feel,” there was a joke in there, Castiel could almost hear it coming from Dean’s lips. Castiel would quite like to see the look on his father’s face if he came downstairs with a pink fairy suitcase in tow.  
“Go get the suitcase,”  
“What really?”  
“Not for me,” Castiel rolled his eyes, “so we can see if there’s a way to fit everything. Go on.”  
Anna disappeared again and Castiel felt the full weight of her absence. He wondered if she even knew why her brother had become taboo in the house he still lived in, hiding in shadows he was forced into as the shame of the family. There was no way his parents would have told her about Castiel’s sin of homosexuality, as if the word itself would have the power to taint Anna’s young innocence. That was why they were being separated: the infectious nature of Castiel’s disease.  
The thud of the suitcase being lugged down the hallway made an appearance long before Anna did. “You need any help with that?” Castiel offered pointlessly.  
“No!” she was breathless but remained her stubborn self. Castiel rolled his eyes and settled in for the wait with arms folded. Eventually, Anna shoved her way through the door and let the suitcase fall to the floor as she pretended to be unstrained. Once he had the suitcase unzipped and folded open, Castiel could see this was worse than he had expected: ironed clothes crumpled and squashed down, more books than Anna could possibly hope to read in double the time they would be in Indiana, a couple toiletry bags, notebooks, homework, pens and pencils of every colour. Castiel opted to tip the entire case out. It took some work and arguing, but he did manage to wear Anna down on about half of what she had packed. They worked out smoothing out the creases on her clothes and then he showed her how to fold them, neither of them knew how to iron- Castiel would give it a try but if he ended up burning one of Anna’s dresses he didn’t think he would survive his mother’s wrath. They just about managed to pack everything into the suitcase, with Anna sat on top of it, Castiel forced the zip around and closed it. As Anna hopped down there was a slight fear that the fabric would explode out, spilling debris of clothes out over the room, but bulging as it was it just about managed to withstand the stretch. With the task at hand over and done with, a moment of silence fell over them, the months of distance reaching them.   
“How come we never hang out anymore?” Anna was brave enough to ask, behind the nostalgia of the moment was a deeper sadness, staining the interaction.   
“We still hang out,” Castiel was smiling an empty but pleasant smile.  
“No. We don’t. We live in the same house but I never see you, you never have dinner with us or come to church, or anything,”  
“I- I’ve just been busy, with school and college applications,”  
“That’s crap!”  
“Anna!”  
“It is. I know it’s more than that. I’m not stupid!” she yelled, eyes filling with tears. Sometimes Castiel forgot just how young she was. He reached out to scoop her into a hug, but Anna pushed him back.  
Castiel sighed, he couldn’t buy her out of this, “me and mom and dad, we’ve- we’ve had a bit of a fall out-“  
“About what?” Anna interrupted, she really wasn’t going to let him off that easy.  
As far as Castiel was concerned, there was nothing wrong with Anna knowing the truth, but he also didn’t think there was anything wrong with being gay, so it seemed that was something Castiel and his parents were stuck to disagree on. Lying was pointless, Anna was too clever and Castiel was too pathetic a liar to get away with it. He owed her the truth. If he was really going to make his escape, he knew his parents would twist Castiel into a villain. Anna would live on thinking Castiel had abandoned her and their family out of hatred.  
“I can’t tell you,” he decided on.  
“Why does everyone treat me like I’m just a kid? I get it with mom and dad, but I thought you’d at least be honest with me,” that stung.  
“Anna-“  
Castiel reached out for her, but her face had turned cool.  
“Can you take my suitcase downstairs?” Castiel gave a defeated sigh, but nodded, “thanks,” Anna said coldly, getting up and going back to her room, the door slamming firmly shut.

Castiel was up with the sun. They wouldn’t be leaving until after lunch, but there was that pit of excitement in his stomach, that wouldn’t let Castiel sleep in any later. He lugged the suitcases downstairs and went to the kitchen to have some tea. His mother was already in there, stood over the stove in a stiff silence. Castiel fought to be invisible as he prepared his tea, but his mother turned, probably expecting someone else to be stood there, and their eyes met. At first, Castiel thought she would turn away, and pretend he didn’t exist too. What was there to say at this point? with so much tongue biting and speeches thrown out, it was easier to not speak than to open pandora’s box and let all the hurt spill out. “You’re up early.” Her voice was a barely there whisper.  
“I couldn’t sleep,”  
Silence.  
“What time are we leaving?” as painful as talking was, an instinct within him was fighting to keep this alive.  
“Hmm?”  
“To go to Grandma’s. What time are we leaving?” he repeated. He hadn’t spoken to his parent’s about Thanksgiving yet, never really having had the opportunity.  
His mother was paying attention now, no longer fiddling with the eggs and fully looking at Castiel.  
“We will be leaving at two,”  
“Okay,”.  
His mother sighed, shifting on her feet awkwardly, “I thought your father had spoken to you…”  
“He hasn’t spoken to me in months,” he said bluntly, neither have you.  
“He- we,” the air tasted bitter all of a sudden, like the moments before a tsunami would strike, “don’t think it would be entirely appropriate, considering the circumstances, for you to accompany us…”  
His mother spoke on, but Castiel had stopped listening. Hiding behind her carefully chosen words, like she was writing his letter of dismissal. As if formalities could conceal that he wasn’t allowed to spend Thanksgiving with his family because he was too queer for their Christianity to handle. Angry tears brimmed Castiel’s eyes as disbelief faded to fury. “You’re not letting me go to Thanksgiving.”  
More silence.  
“I wasn’t going to do anything. It was going to be the same as every other year. I’m still me-“ Castiel choked on those last words, begging himself not to cry in front of her.  
“No. Your choices have hurt this family enough. The last thing we need is you upsetting your grandparents-“  
“I wasn’t going to tell them!”  
“How are we supposed to trust you? and the cousins will be there, some of them are very young and-“  
“Mom!” Castiel’s eyes widened.  
“Stop. I will not argue with you about this. You are not coning and nothing is going to change that,”  
Castiel was silenced, his tea forgotten and cooling. He was furiously heartbroken, wishing that he could scream and yell and change her mind, not that it had been her decision anyway. She was just as guilty, but Castiel knew that a precedent like this came straight from his father and was passed down from there.  
There was nothing that Castiel could say or do, but accept the dire situation he had been caged in. He turned and left his mother in the kitchen. Whatever self-restraint he had maintained in her presence was long-forgotten, furious tears hitting him at full force. He almost didn’t see Anna, standing at the bottom of stairs and frozen as she watched her older brother fall apart.   
“Cas?” her voice was like a whisper.  
“I’m sorry, I’m fine,” he shook his head not wanting Anna to see him like this.   
From the kitchen Naomi must have heard their voices, as their mother had suddenly appeared to loom over the siblings.  
“Cas, what’s happened?” Anna asked, looking past Castiel to her mother, waiting for her to contribute.  
“Castiel has decided that he won’t be joining us at Grandma’s for the weekend,” Naomi took the liberty to explain.  
Anna’s expression turned away from worry to a colder palette, “what? Why?”  
Cleaning the tear tracks from his face, Castiel glanced at Naomi and then turned his back on her, facing Anna alone.  
“I haven’t decided anything,” his voice was cold and crisp, cutting through the air, “but I have been told that I’m not allowed to come with you.” Confusion struck Anna across the face. Naomi had lied to her. Parents lie all the time, but for it to be so quickly debunked and pointed out as false had the room dumbfounded.  
“Why can’t Cas come?” it was Anna that spoke first.  
“Charles, I think you should come here!” Naomi yelled out to their father. She’d lost her control of Castiel and it seemed Anna was slipping away too.  
“Why can’t he come?” Anna repeated, voice raising juts a little.  
Charles- Chuck- had found them, quickly grasping the situation.   
“Castiel has a great deal of school work to attend to,”   
“No.” Castiel had already been kicked out from his family. This had been the case ever since he had come out, but Castiel still held on to that small hope: he pretended just like his parents, that the way they were living was normal. Finally, he couldn’t run from it. He was no more a part of the family as his parents were accepting of his sexuality. There was no reason or motivation that could warrant him to continue with this farce.  
“Castiel-“ his father’s voice was strong but panicked, as if knowing what was to come.   
“Mom and Dad don’t want me to be a part of this family anymore (“That’s not true,” Naomi spoke over him.) because I’m gay and they can’t accept that,” Castiel admitted finally.  
He saw shock and what looked like a glimpse of understanding, before Chuck grabbed at his collar and forced Castiel backwards. “Get her out of here!” he yelled. Still in shock, Anna was quickly whisked away by Naomi before she had the chance to process anything. Although, Castiel eventually did hear yelling from Anna upstairs above that of his own father.  
“I’m not sorry,” Chuck struck Castiel for that. As far as he’d known, Chuck had never hit any of them, but now Castiel saw that the ability had always been there in him, it just took the right push and here it was.  
“You have a bag packed, yes?” his voice had an eerie quality, far too calm for the anger that Castiel knew was boiling away inside.  
“Yes, but-“  
“Good. Then I assume you have everything you need. I want you out of my house. For too long I have tolerated your choices, but I will do so no longer. I wanted to protect my daughter from your poison, and you have made that impossible. So get your bag and get out.” Chuck’s voice never raised or strayed from his flat tone. He was cold and unfeeling throughout the entire process and Castiel didn’t have it in him to argue. Anna was the only thing that could have kept him here, but at least she knew that this wasn’t Castiel’s choice. She knew the truth and what she did with that was up to her. Castiel didn’t fight or demand an opportunity to say goodbye to his sister and his mother, he didn’t even say anything to Chuck as he picked up his bag and left out the door, fully intending that he would not return. 

Castiel walked for a mile or so through the fog, before his knees buckled under him, crushing Castiel and forcing him down to the floor, gasping for breath as tears dropped with him. His home, everything he had known his entire life was gone. A mile behind him, but it was completely closed off to him, it might as well have been torn down to the ground like he had. For a while he had convinced himself that he could be purely cinematic. His image would fade away into the fog and thus closed the chapter on his family life. He had a ‘what next’ planned, but that was all situated 10 months from now. There was no passing away those months, they were here now and Castiel had to live with them. So what now?   
Castiel indulged himself with tears until he had nothing more to give and the cold had settled on him. Leaving in such a hurry, he wasn’t exactly dressed for a November’s morning. There were people to whom Castiel could turn. His best bet would probably be Inias. They were close and his parents were like family. They were safe, but there was someone else Castiel wanted to talk to. His mind went to Dean on instinct. He needed that warmth to be here, wrapped around him. It wasn’t safe or logical, but Dean was what Castiel needed.   
After three rings, Castiel thought that Dean wouldn’t pick up. As much as Castiel wanted it, Dean didn’t really owe him anything.  
“Cas?” Dean sounded groggy. It wasn’t even ten yet.  
“Dean.”  
“…it’s really early, you okay?” suddenly Castiel felt like an idiot. Dean was in Texas, what could he do-why would he do anything?  
“Um. Something’s happened,”  
“What? What’s happened?” Dean sounded more alert now.  
“I- My parents and I, we- we had a f-fight and they, they kicked me out,” Castiel stumbled over his words, realising just how horrible it was as he said it out loud,  
“What the fuck? Shit! Okay, um it’s fine, it’s gonna be fine, okay? Where are you?”  
“I don’t know,”  
“What do you mean you don’t know?”  
“I mean that I don’t know! I’m on a street forty minutes away from my-from the house,” Castiel half yelled.  
“Okay, sorry. We’ll get you somewhere safe. My place is empty. Dad’s outta town and Sam’s been staying with Jess. You can come over and we’ll figure things out.”  
“I thought you were still in Texas,”  
“I am, but there’s no way I’m letting you just wander the streets like this. I bet it’s cold too. I’m gonna drive up, set off when we get off the phone,”  
“Dean-“  
“Don’t. You’re not being alone after this. It’s gonna take a while, but I’ll try and get there as fast as I can. Ring me when you get to mine, I’ll tell you where the spare key is,”  
Castiel let out a breath. “Thank you,”  
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you soon as I can,”  
“Goodbye Dean.”   
It took Castiel another half an hour to make his way over to the Winchester house. In true cliché, the key was badly hidden in one of the outdoor lights. Castiel turned the key and pushed open the stiff of the door. There was no beeping alarm or security system to alert the house that castile wasn’t really supposed to be there. It was a miracle they hadn’t been robbed already.   
Standing in the house on his own, it took on a completely new persona from all those times Castiel had been here before with Sam. Sam who was always so bright and happy, filled up the space more than Castiel could manage on his own. Suddenly, the cracks became so glaringly obvious. The house was small and suffocating, yet managed to feel so devoid at the same time. Absent were the photoshoot pictures of a smiling family and report cards framed in envy on the fridge. As impersonal as the house felt, it was well lived in. Castiel sat down in the crease of the sofa, hugging his bag to his chest to try and keep warm.   
He didn’t have any tears. In their privation, Castiel found nothing. He zoomed out from his own body, until he saw blackness. No body or mind, but nothingness. Castiel had never welcomed this feeling more than in this moment. Facing hours alone in an empty house, how else could be indulge himself than sink into devastation?  
It wasn’t Castiel directly who dragged himself out of the pit, but the call of his body. After disappearing into the bathroom, Castiel couldn’t quite face fading away again. He wished Dean was here. Some time had passed, but nowhere near enough. Castiel braved his way up the stairs, feeling more and more like an intruder. He knew that Sam’s was the room furthest down the hall, leaving the two other unopened doors a mystery. The first door he opened, revealed a shaded room housing a double bed, dresser and nothing else. It smelt of musk and whiskey and looked almost completely untouched, except by the dust streaming through the gap in the curtains. This was John’s room. Castiel quickly shut the door and went to open Dean’s room, in the hope of finding some closeness there.   
Dean’s was the smallest of the three bedrooms. Most of the room was taken up by a single bed and wardrobe sitting at right angles to one another. Behind the bed Dean had a flat chest, with an old record player and some tattered records sitting on top. Castiel liked to picture Dean playing one of the albums, maybe swaying around his room. There was something so warm about the idea. The room, as confined as it was, managed to scream Dean. Castiel could close his eyes and let the smell convince him that Dean was here strumming at the guitar that stood in the corner or flicking through he binder that looked to contain pirated DVDs. Castiel sat down on the bed, with great care he put the top album, Houses of the Holy, on the record player and tried to relax into Dean’s presence

The front door shut, sending a shake through the house and jittering Castiel awake. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he was bent as the side, half laying on Dean’s bed, with the record spinning aimlessly. Castiel forced himself up and gently put the record back in its sleeve. His face was lined with sleep and his eyes weren’t quite focused yet, Castiel didn’t even want to consider the mess of his hair. It was late, but that didn’t fully excuse him falling asleep on Dean’s bed. It felt like a violation of trust. Castiel should’ve stayed downstairs and waited patiently for Dean there. He make a meagre attempt at straightening out his shirt, before he emerged from the room, meeting Dean on the stairs.  
“Hey,” Dean was smiling bright, and Castiel found himself smiling back despite himself.  
“Hello, Dean,” Castiel felt the weeks of distance crashing down on them, the smile turning sad and Dean was pulling him into a tight hold. “Oh,” Castiel’s arms slowly, reluctantly wrapped around Dean until they felt at home. He didn’t cry, but Castiel felt far from brave. He clung to Dean until he’d pulled back too far for Castiel to be able to reach him.  
“I figured we could order a pizza or something and just chill tonight. We can talk everything over tomorrow, if you don’t want to tonight,” Dean suggested and Castiel nodded along. He wasn’t sure he would be able to take his mind off what had happened, but felt much too low to talk.   
Dean led them downstairs, taking charge of their pizza order. He disappeared for a couple of minutes, but came back with one of the discs, from his pirated DVD collection, and put it on. It was a comedy, with lots of bright colours and high moods. When Dean wasn’t eyeing Cas from the corner of his eye, he was laughing along to the jokes. Castiel didn’t laugh. He stared off in the direction of the television, finding that as appropriate a place as any to zone out. The next thing he remembered was the knock at the door. Dean paid for the pizza and came back looking happy. Dean made Castiel eat four of the slices before he let him off. The movie finished and Dean decided they should get some sleep. Castiel unzipped his bag and changed into some sleepwear. They were sharing the single bed, but Dean had his arms open wide for Castiel and he couldn’t help but melt into them, disappearing into the warmth of Dean’s chest. Castiel had held himself together for as long as he could, but the warmth of Dean stripped away whatever was left of him. He sobbed into Dean, choking and gasping for air. Dean stroked through his hair and down his back sometimes, shushing and soothing at Castiel. He didn’t say anything, but let Cas cry until his tears dried on his cheeks and Dean’s shirt was wet. It was late but Castiel was far from tired and Dean’s breathing wasn’t deep enough for him to be sleeping either. There was no need to speak, so they lay there together until the dark consumed them into a sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is back from Dean's POV. It's a little darker so please make sure to check the tags

It was late, when Dean finally tore himself away from Cas to drive back to Texas. After almost a week sheltered up together, behind his bedroom curtains, they were apart again. He dropped Cas off at Inias’, a move Dean wasn’t overly happy about, but as Cas had reminded him at least a hundred times before the big move, no matter how much Dean frowned about it, Cas was in no position to turn down a bed just because Dean was jealous. It didn’t stop Dean from looking as displeased as he felt or denying that he was jealous. So Dean held on to the hope that somewhere in Inias’ palace, there was at least a couple of spare rooms; it wasn’t like Inias and Cas were truly bunked up. Anyway, Dean trusted that Cas wasn’t anywhere near interested in Inias, but what he didn’t trust was that stupid smirk on Inias’ farce as he closed the door, locking Cas up with his advances. Dean was tense the whole drive back home. The imprint of his clenched hands left behind on his steering wheel.   
Dean’s apartment was left frozen in time; dishes from Monday still left piled up in the sink, clothes left unwashed reminding him of how much he had dropped in favour of Cas’ heartache. There were a couple of classes and assignments he had to catch up on, but a quick text to Lewis seemed to solve that problem for the most part. With a meetup in the library and a couple late nights, Dean could make up for the missed work, with barely a mark left behind from his absence. Although, that didn’t quite account for the bigger problem staring him down. Dean didn’t and wouldn’t regret going to Cas’ rescue: the poor guy had needed him, so Dean was there. As much as he shouldn’t and for all the warning signs, Dean cared about Cas, a lot more than he should. He cared about him enough to miss five days’ worth of shifts at the diner, including Thanksgiving’s dinner service. Dean had wound up turning his phone off, not wanting Cas to worry about the calls that kept pouring in. The diner probably gave Dean more chances than he deserved, but eventually he got the text telling him not to bother showing up again and it was over. Dean more than deserved it, but that didn’t mean that he was any less fucked. Dean’s wallet was thin as it was, with his wages being split between him and Sam and it wasn’t like Dad was contributing all that much these days, so it was pretty much down to Dean to carry the weight of two households.

Having just about slept off the distance, Dean was up and out early Monday morning. He didn’t have a class until that afternoon, but Lewis had agreed to meet up with him, to run through the couple of classes he missed. He found Lewis at the far side of the library, sat on his phone as he waited. Lewis was a bigger build than Dean, even as he sat hunched over the broadness of his shoulders didn’t cower away. With his dark skin and stubbled hair neatly shaping his head, Lewis was a sight for sore eyes. Dean smiled and sat across from him “Hey man, seriously thanks for this, I owe you big time,”  
“Nah, it’s nothing,” Lewis shrugged, sliding his notebook over to Dean, “these are the notes I took, just hope it makes sense to you.”  
“No, these look great,” Dean shook his head, glancing across the scribbles.  
“How come you took off anyways? We were off for Thanksgiving in a couple days anyway,”  
“Oh, uh, it was a family thing. Had to go there and then, I couldn’t really put it off. But it’s really fucked me over- like this is fine I can catch up and do the work, so it ain’t so bad, but I was meant to be working (“oh shit”) that whole week and obviously I wasn’t there,”  
“Fuck, what happened?”  
“Well they fired me. I didn’t really give them any other choice. It was totally my fault but now I’m fucked until I find somewhere else,” Dean sighed, scratching the back of his head.  
“That sucks, I’m sorry man,”   
They both frowned, falling silent. Lewis was back on his phone, giving Dean a chance to copy up some of the notes and ask questions where the handwriting wasn’t quite clear or a concept was abbreviated. When Lewis had to leave, Dean took photos of the remaining pages, continuing alone. 

Later in the week, Dean sat high in the auditorium, Lewis nodding at him as he climbed the stairs to sit next to Dean. “Hey, you had any luck yet?”  
“No. Every place I thought I’d have a shot with has just flat out refused. I think it must be a bad time of year to be applying,” Dean shrugged off the anxiety.  
“What about that bar I told you was advertising?”  
“I’m 18,” Dean said flatly, as the professor walked in.  
“So?”   
“So, they’re not gonna hire me to work in a bar when I’m underage,” Dean hissed.  
“I’ve drunk in there plenty enough to know they don’t give a fuck. They’ve never checked for ID, I doubt they care about that stuff,”  
Dean pursed his lips, “alright, send me the address I’ll check it out,” he agreed. A couple of people in front of them glared back to see who was talking and the pair fell silent, but not without a joint eyeroll. 

That weekend, Dean dragged Lewis along with him to the bar, to scope the place out. On entry no one asked for their ID, nor when they each ordered their beers. Dean cradled his. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to be drinking too much.  
“There he is,” Lewis muttered, nodding towards a man clad head to toe in black. He had to be at least forty, “pretty sure he’s the owner, or at least a manager.”  
Dean kept an eye on him as they spoke, waiting for the guy to step behind the bar. For the most part he seemed comfortable from the shadows, keeping an eye on the goings on from a distance. A couple of times he accidentally caught Dean’s eye, holding it even after Dean whipped his stare away.  
When the time came, Dean swallowed down the rest of his beer and called the manager/owner over under the guise of a second. The amber liquid filled the glass and Dean felt heavy eyes on him.  
“Heard you got a job going,” Dean started before he could walk away.  
“That depends who’s asking,” he replied, cocking his eyebrow.  
“Me.” Dean held the stare, refusing to let himself crush under the pressure of it.  
“Oh, so that’s why you were checking me out then, I almost got excited”  
“I-“ Dean swallowed.  
“Tomorrow at 8. Call it a mock shift, if you’re cut out for it I’ll keep you on,”  
They finished their drinks and left the bar quickly. Dean could finally breathe when he was outside.  
“Yeah, I see what you mean about that guy,” Dean shuddered.  
“He was pretty full on with you. You sure about tomorrow? I wouldn’t put it past him to try something,” Lewis warned.  
“I need a job,” Dean resigned, “here’s to hoping he keeps to himself,”  
Lewis shrugged and climbed in the car, saying nothing else about it. 

Dean arrived at the bar just before 8, dressed in dark jeans and one of his nicer button downs. He could just about pass for professional. Walking in the bar, Dean was met by a tight grin from the sleaze of a manager/owner.   
“Right on time, that’s nice to see,” he complimented, glancing down at what Dean was wearing, “I didn’t catch your name yesterday.”  
“Uh, Dean. It’s Dean,” he cleared his throat, trying to shake the nerves.  
“Dean. That’s nice. I’m Eric. Why don’t you come back behind the bar and I’ll show you the ropes?” Eric opened up the hatch in the bar and let Dean walk through, “you know how to pour a beer?”  
“Yeah,” Dean was handed a glass. Placing it under the nozzle, he poured the amber liquid in with some ease.  
“You ever worked in a bar before?”  
“Not exactly,”  
“Hmm, you don’t look nearly old enough,” there was a flash of light in Eric’s eye.  
He showed Dean how to work the till, where everything was, and the ‘cheat-sheet’ for cocktails. Anything else or if he got confused, he was to ask Eric for help. Dean expected Eric to go back to the shadows to loom over the bar like a gargoyle on an old church, but he stayed behind the bar, close enough to Dean to keep a close eye on him.  
The first person to come up to the bar was a woman in her late twenties. She was sat at a table of cocktail dresses and ordered two white wines, giving Dean a couple extra dollars on top of the price.  
“What do I do with this?” Dean asked Eric.  
“Normally we put tips in the jar and it’s split between the waiting staff, but how about you keep that? my treat,”   
Dean nodded.  
“They can be a nice little money earner, tips, as long as you know how to play it. A little positive attention from someone like you, definitely wouldn’t hurt. You could certainly get me to open my wallet,”  
“You mean like flirting?” Dean asked, feeling small all of a sudden.  
“You said it, not me. You do need the money, right?”  
“Well yeah-“  
“Then what harm can it do?”  
There was another customer at the bar before Dean had the opportunity to protest. Eric’s gaze felt heavier now. It was another woman, so he didn’t feel too awkward about flashing a smile. “What can I do you for, darlin?’” the words felt forced. The woman smiled and ordered her drink, even gave Dean the change from her ten. Eric was right behind Dean, his breath hot before his hand found Dean’s shoulder. “See?” 

It was after three when Dean got back to the apartment, tired and used. He’d gotten the job: weekends and a couple nights during the week. As much as he didn’t want to accept, Dean didn’t have a choice. It was money.  
Dean laid down on top of his covers fully clothed, the handprints from Eric still all over him. He turned his phone back on and was welcomed by a couple of texts from Cas. Dean sighed.  
“You still awake?”  
It was a long shot, but Dean stayed, waiting for the text to come back from Cas. Dean fell asleep without a reply.  
“Sorry. I was asleep. Are you okay?” only Cas would be awake before nine on a Sunday.  
Dean saw the message after twelve when he’d finally pulled himself out of bed. “I’m fine it doesn’t matter.” 

A week after his first shift, Dean felt as settled as he could be in a new job. There were still some oddities that would crop up that he knew nothing about and would have to call on Eric, who was never too far away, for help. He’d finished his training in winking and smirking and flirting his way into a few extra bucks from customers. Eric always let him keep his tips for himself, saying that Dean had earned it. Dean was fairly confident that his co-workers all hated him for being in Eric’s favour.  
“Do you get many tips from the gentlemen here?” Eric’s voice always felt like a whisper right in Dean’s ear. He was directly behind Dean. They weren’t touching but Dean couldn’t move back, leaving him pinned against the bar in invisible handcuffs,  
“Not really. I figured if I tried anything they’d probably hit me,”  
“Oh, you’d be surprised, with a pretty face like that,” Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “I’ve got a friend coming in tonight, he’s been dying to meet you. I’ve told him all about you, that you would take good care of him. Right, Dean?”  
Dean shivered, but nodded. No didn’t feel like an option.  
Eric told Dean that he was too tense. He wouldn’t be able to perform well like that. He was handed a shot and then another, drinking them with a wince. Dean’s nerves had basically melted away by the time Eric was introducing him to a man called Pete. Dean flashed a grin and poured their drinks. Eric insisted that Dean have one too. He told Dean not to worry about anyone else and just spend his time making sure Pete had everything he needed.  
“You don’t disappoint, Dean,” Pete purred, his eyes dark and groping over Dean.  
“That’s the whiskey talking,” Dean tried to deflect.  
“That doesn’t mean it’s not true. You could do a lot better than a place like this. I bet all kinds of people would pay to see you,”  
Dean was frowning.  
“Smile. It makes you look pretty,”  
Dean felt uneasy.  
“I said smile.”  
Dean’s lips curled up and he bared his teeth on command.  
“That’s better. Has Eric spoken to you about his other businesses?”  
“No, just the bar,”  
“That’s a shame. There’s money in a lot more than bar work. I know I’d love to pay for you,”  
“For what?”  
Pete laughed privately to himself, almost like he was laughing at Dean for not understanding, “for you.”  
He slid a twenty across to Dean. “You talk to Eric. He already told me you’d be perfect for me and he wasn’t wrong. There’s a lot of money in it for you. You wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.”  
Dean backed away, only taking a couple of steps before he was colliding with Eric.  
“Dean?” His voice was a coarse warning.  
“I- I have to go. I’m sorry,” Dean muttered, making his move, but not before Eric had ahold of him by the wrist.  
“Don’t walk away from a good opportunity. They don’t come along as often as you’d like. I’ve got people dying to pay for some time with you. You be a good boy and you’ll make enough money for you and little Sammy,” Eric hissed.   
Dean yanked his hand away, taking staggered steps to escape. He was relieved when he didn’t hear Eric or Pete chasing after him, too scared to think of what would happen if he was caught. Dean’s heart raced and by the time he stumbled into the impala, he could barely get the keys in the ignition, but he had to get out of there. After a few shaky breaths, Dean had the car started and was speeding to get home to curl up and pretend the whole thing never happened. 

The morning greeted Dean with the shrill sound of his phone ringing. Giving an angry groan, Dean groped under his pillow until he found his phone. It was Sam.  
“What?”  
“I’ve missed you too, Dean,” Sam laughed down the phone.  
“Yeah, yeah. What do you need?”  
“Uh well we’ve had a couple of letters through. Y’know the ones with big red writing asking for money,”  
Fuck.  
“Shit, yeah, sorry. I’m on it, I’ll do it today,” Dean huffed.  
“Dean-“  
“Don’t.”  
“I’m serious. Half the kids in my year have part-time jobs. It’s not fair you having to-“  
“I’ve got the money, I just forgot. I’ll pay it today,” Dean said sternly.  
“Okay. I gotta go, don’t wanna be late for school,”  
“Yeah, I’ll talk soon,” Dean ended the call, throwing his phone across the bed with a yell. He had the tip money but Eric wasn’t going to pay him for the bar work until the end of the month. Dean had nowhere near enough money and he was running out of options to pay the ever stacking debt. He didn’t have a choice anymore. He needed money and he needed it fast and if that meant selling himself down the river, so be it.


End file.
